I  I  liii! 


PSYCHOLOGY 
AND  PARENTHOOD 


BY 


H.  ADDINGTON  BRUCE 

Author  of  "The  Riddle  of  Personality,"  "Scientific 
Mental  Healing,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,    MEAD  &   COMPANY 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,  1915 
BY  DODD.  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


UBRARY 

UNI  Vision  i  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBAJRA 


67 


PREFACE 


THE  chief  aim  of  this  informal  "  handbook  for  par- 
ents "  is  to  review  and  unify,  in  non-technical  lan- 
guage, the  findings  of  modern  psychology  which 
bear  especially  on  the  laws  of  mental  and  moral 
growth.  The  time  has  come  when  it  is  not  only 
desirable  but  necessary  to  attempt  something  of  this 
sort;  for  in  the  course  of  their  labours  the  educa- 
tional, medical,  and  social  psychologists  have  ac- 
cumulated a  mass  of  data  revealing  unsuspected 
defects,  and  hinting  at  marvellous  possibilities,  in 
the  upbringing  of  the  young. 

On  the  one  hand,  they  have  shown  that  not  enough 
heed  has  been  paid  to  the  hampering  influences  of 
an  unfavourable  environment  and  physical  malad- 
justment ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  they  have  made  it 
clear  that,  by  instituting  certain  reforms,  it  is  en- 
tirely feasible  to  develop  mental  and  moral  vigour  in 
the  mass  of  mankind  to  an  astonishing  degree.  My 
[vii] 


PREFACE 

own  belief,  indeed,  for  reasons  set  forth  in  subsequent 
pages,  is  that  the  discoveries  of  the  modern  psychol- 
ogists justify  the  assertion  that,  through  proper 
training  in  childhood,  it  is  possible  to  create  a  race 
of  men  and  women  far  superior  morally  to  the  gener- 
alty  of  the  world's  inhabitants  to-day,  and  manifest- 
ing intellectual  powers  of  a  far  higher  order  than 
the  generalty  now  display. 

Whether  this  belief  will  ever  be  vindicated  — 
whether,  for  the  matter  of  that,  the  discoveries  of 
recent  psychological  research  will  prove  of  any  real 
value  —  depends,  of  course,  on  the  extent  to  which 
practical  application  is  made  by  those  having  charge 
of  the  young,  and  particularly  by  parents.  For  the 
fact  most  surely  established  by  the  scientific  investi- 
gators is  that  it  is  in  the  first  years  of  life,  and  in 
the  influences  of  the  home,  that  the  forces  are  set  in 
motion  which  count  for  most  in  the  making  or  mar- 
ring of  the  individual's  character  and  career.  Pa- 
rental responsibility  is  consequently  much  greater 
than  most  parents  suppose;  but  so  is  parental  op- 


PREFACE 

portunity.  This  book  accordingly  is  addressed  pri- 
marily to  parents  in  the  hope  that  it  may  be  of  some 
assistance  to  them  in  avoiding  the  pitfalls,  and 
developing  the  possibilities,  of  that  most  important 
of  all  human  activities  —  the  training  of  the  next 
generation. 

Portions  of  the  book  have  already  appeared  in 
various  periodicals  —  The  Century  Magazine,  The 
Outlook,  McClure's  Magazine,  etc. —  and  to  the  ed- 
itors of  these  publications  I  owe  a  word  of  grateful 
acknowledgment.  I  am  also  under  obligations  to 
numerous  medical  and  psychological  friends  for  val- 
uable information.  But  most  of  all,  as  always,  I 
am  indebted  to  my  wife,  whose  critical  reading  of  the 
manuscript  has  resulted  in  many  helpful  suggestions. 

H.  ADDINGTON  BRUCE. 

Cambridge,  Massachusetts, 
February,  1915. 


[ix] 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

PREFACE vii 

I     THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  ENVIRONMENT     .  3 

II     SUGGESTION  IN  EDUCATION 39 

III  THE  SECRET  OF  GENIUS 71 

IV  INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 113 

V     THE  PROBLEM  OF  LAZINESS 161 

VI  A  CHAPTER  ON  LAUGHTER 193 

VII  HYSTERIA  IN  CHILDHOOD 221 

VIII  THE  MENACE  OF  FEAR 249 

IX  A  FEW  CLOSING  WORDS    .  .   283 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  ENVIRONMENT 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  ENVIRONMENT 

MANY  years  ago,  according  to  a  story 
which  remains  vividly  in  my  memory 
by  reason  of  its  grim  suggestiveness, 
two  small  boys  were  one  day  sauntering  along  a 
country  road.  The  sight  of  an  orchard,  resplendent 
in  its  autumn  glory  of  red  and  green  and  gold, 
tempted  them  with  irresistible  appeal,  as  it  has 
tempted  thousands  of  other  boys  before  and  since. 
Over  the  rail-fence  they  scrambled,  up  a  well-laden 
tree  they  climbed,  and  soon  were  merrily  at  work 
filling  their  pockets. 

But  now  from  a  near-by  cottage  came  the  man 
who  owned  the  orchard,  and  his  coming  was  the  sig- 
nal for  a  hasty  descent.  One  of  the  boys  made  good 
his  escape ;  the  other,  less  quick-footed,  was  dragged, 
a  loudly-protesting  captive,  to  the  home  of  the  local 
magistrate. 

[3] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

"  More  apple-stealing ! "  this  stern  functionary 
exclaimed.  "  Something  must  be  done  to  stop  it. 
Let  us  make  an  example  of  this  bad  boy."  To  prison 
forthwith  he  consigned  the  luckless  youth. 

His  companion,  thankful  for  his  happier  fate,  re- 
turned to  his  home,  his  school,  and  his  books.  From 
school  he  went  to  college,  and  afterward  took  up  the 
study  of  law,  beginning  his  professional  career  with! 
a  reputation  for  great  intellectual  ability  and 
.strength  of  character.  In  course  of  time  he  was 
made  a  judge. 

As  judge  he  was  called  on  to  preside  at  the  trial 
of  a  man  accused  of  murder.  The  evidence  of  guilt 
was  conclusive,  conviction  speedy.  It  became  his 
duty  to  don  the  black  cap  and  pronounce  sentence 
of  death.  But  before  he  did  this,  he  was  struck  with 
something  familiar  in  the  prisoner's  sodden,  passion- 
marked  features,  made  inquiry  concerning  his  early 
history,  and,  to  his  mingled  horror  and  amazement, 
learned  that  the  wretched  man  was  none  other  than 
the  happy,  buoyant  lad  who  had  first  felt  the  heavy 

[4] 


IMPORTANCE    OF   ENVIRONMENT 

hand  of  the  law  on  account  of  the  orchard-robbing 
episode  in  which  the  judge,  now  about  to  doom  him 
to  the  scaffold,  had  gone  scot-free. 

Than  this  strange  chapter  in  human  experience 
I  can  at  the  moment  recall  nothing  that  more  strik- 
ingly suggests  and  illustrates  the  dominant  theory 
in  modern  scientific  thought  regarding  the  offender 
against  society.  The  implication  that  the  contrast- 
ing careers  of  the  two  boys  were  largely  determined 
by  circumstances  over  which  they  had  no  control, 
and  that  it  was  the  brutalising  jail  experience  of 
the  one  and  the  more  fortunate  upbringing  of  the 
other  that  chiefly  accounted  for  their  diverse 
fates,  unquestionably  represents  the  views  held  by 
the  great  majority  of  present-day  students  of  delin- 
quency and  crime.  To  be  sure,  there  are  not  a  few 
who  would  raise  the  question,  "  Might  not  the  boy 
who  was  caught  in  the  orchard  have  i  gone  wrong ' 
in  any  event,  because  of  inborn  defects  ?  "  These 
are  the  enthusiasts  conspicuous  to-day  as  leaders  of 
the  so-called  eugenics  movement  looking  to  the  im- 

[5] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

provement  of  mankind  on  stock-breeding  principles 
—  by  sterilisation  of  the  "  unfit,"  stricter  marriage 
laws,  etc.  Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  they  have  on 
their  side  a  formidable  array  of  facts  which  would 
seem  to  demonstrate  the  unescapable  fatality  of  a 
bad  heredity.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  equally  cer- 
tain that  there  is  a  steadily  growing  body  of  evidence 
giving  ever  greater  support  to  the  opposite  view  — 
to  the  view,  namely,  that  after  all  the  influence  of 
heredity  is  of  quite  secondary  importance  to  that  of 
environment  in  the  marring  or  making  of  a  human 
life. 

Even  the  facts  emphasised  by  the  eugenists  them- 
selves sometimes  tend,  on  close  examination,  to  bear 
out  the  belief  that  it  is  in  the  surroundings  and  train- 
ing of  a  child  rather  than  in  his  heredity  that  the 
sources  of  his  ultimate  goodness  or  badness  are 
mainly  to  be  found.  The  history  of  the  notorious 
Juke  family,  featured  by  almost  every  modern  advo- 
cate of  the  "  fatal  heredity  "  theory,  is  a  case  in 
point. 

[6] 


IMPORTANCE    OF   ENVIRONMENT 

The  first  Jukes  of  whom  anything  is  known  were 
five  sisters  of  obscure  parentage  who  lived  in  Ulster 
County,  New  York,  in  the  second  half  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  At  least  four  of  the  five  took  early 
to  a  life  of  vice,  and  eventually  ah1  married  and  had 
children.  Many  years  afterward  a  visitor  to  an 
Ulster  County  jail  noticed  that  among  its  inmates, 
awaiting  trial  on  various  charges,  were  six  members 
of  one  family,  including  two  boys  accused  of  assault 
with  intent  to  kill.  Inquiry  showed  that  the  six 
were  directly  descended  from  the  oldest  Juke  girl, 
and  that  more  than  half  of  their  male  blood-relatives 
in  the  county  were  likewise  in  some  degree  criminal. 

Impressed  by  these  facts  the  jail  visitor,  Mr.  R. 
L.  Dugdale,  determined  to  make  a  genealogical  re- 
search into  the  life  histories  of  as  many  of  the  de- 
scendants of  the  five  Juke  sisters  as  could  be  traced. 
Altogether  it  was  found  possible  to  obtain  pretty 
complete  data  concerning  seven  hundred  and  nine  of 
these,  with  the  following  astonishing  results: 

Of  the  entire  seven  hundred  and  nine,  not  twenty 
[7] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

had  been  skilled  workers,  and  ten  of  these  had  learned 
their  trade  in  prison;  only  twenty-two  had  been 
persons  of  property,  and  of  this  number  eight  had 
lost  the  little  they  acquired;  sixty-four  had  been  in 
the  county  alms-house;  one  hundred  and  forty-two 
had  received  outdoor  relief ;  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  had  been  prostitutes,  and  eighteen  keepers  of 
houses  of  ill-fame;  finally,  seventy-six  were  re- 
ported as  criminals,  with  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
more  or  less  serious  crimes  to  their  discredit.  All 
this  in  seven  generations  of  a  single  family. 

Surely  one  might  well  be  tempted  to  find  here  "  the 
most  striking  proof  of  the  heredity  of  crime,"  as 
Cesare  Lombroso  did  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  this 
sad  history  of  the  Jukes.  But  there  is  something  to 
be  added. 

Following  the  publication  of  Mr.  Dugdale's  book, 
"  The  Jukes,"  giving  the  family  record,  there  came 
under  the  care  of  a  charitable  organisation  an 
eighth-generation  descendant  of  the  oldest  Juke  sis- 
ter, a  foundling  baby  boy,  cast  upon  the  tender  mer- 

[8] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

cies  of  the  world  with  all  the  burden  of  "  innate 
depravity  "  transmitted  from  his  vicious  ancestors. 
Instead  of  taking  it  for  granted  that  he  would  inevi- 
tably come  to  an  evil  end,  the  charity-workers 
decided  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  a  refined  environ- 
ment and  good  family  care.  Accordingly  a  home 
was  found  for  him  with  a  kind-hearted  widow,  whose 
own  sons  had  grown  to  a  worthy  manhood,  and  from 
her  for  ten  years  he  received  the  loving  and  intelli- 
gent training  which  is  the  birthright  of  every  child. 
At  the  end  of  that  time  he  had  developed  into  a 
fine,  manly  boy,  with,  however,  a  somewhat  super- 
abundant fund  of  animal  spirits  and  a  tendency  to 
unruliness.  It  was  evident  that,  owing  to  her  ad- 
vanced age,  his  foster-mother  could  not  give  him 
the  stricter  discipline  he  now  seemed  to  need,  and 
arrangements  were  made  for  his  adoption  by  a 
farmer  and  his  wife  living  in  a  Western  State.  By 
them  he  was  again  treated  with  the  utmost  affection, 
coupled  with  more  firmness  than  he  had  hitherto 
known.  Little  by  little  his  unruliness  disappeared; 

[9] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

he  became  eager  to  excel  both  at  school  and  in  the 
work  of  the  farm,  and  soon  became  known  as  one  of 
the  best  boys  of  the  neighbourhood.  The  older  he 
grew  the  more  evidence  he  gave  of  possessing  a 
strong  moral  foundation  on  which  to  build  his  future 
career.  When  last  heard  from  by  the  charitable 
organisation  to  which  he  owed  so  much,  he  had 
struck  out  for  himself,  an  alert,  vigorous,  forceful 
young  man,  of  sterling  character,  and  full  of  the 
self-confidence  which  wins  success. 

Moreover,  Mr.  Dugdale  himself,  in  the  course  of 
his  exhaustive  account  of  the  evil  ways  of  the  Jukes, 
calls  attention  to  the  case  of  a  fifth-generation  de- 
scendant, the  daughter  of  a  brothel-keeper,  and  hav- 
ing two  sisters  who  eventually  became  prostitutes. 
Nor  did  it  seem  at  all  likely  that  she  would  turn 
out  any  better  than  they ;  for,  before  she  was  fifteen, 
she  had  been  arrested  and  imprisoned  for  vagrancy. 
But,  as  good  fortune  would  have  it,  shortly  after  her 
release  from  jail  she  met,  fell  in  love  with,  and  mar- 
ried a  young  German,  a  cement-burner  of  steady, 
[10] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

industrious  habits.  Taken  by  him  out  of  her  former 
debasing  environment,  given  a  good  home  and  the 
example  of  a  strong  character,  she  grew  to  a  reputa- 
ble womanhood,  respected  and  admired  by  all  who 
knew  her. 

Many  similar  instances  of  the  saving  power  of 
good  surroundings  might  be  cited.  "  One  of  the  most 
useful  men  I  know  of  to-day,"  testifies  Mr.  Ernest 
K.  Coulter,  formerly  clerk  of  the  New  York  Chil- 
dren's Court,  "  saw  his  father  murder  his  mother  in 
cold  blood.  There  was  a  bad  record  on  her  side  of 
the  house,  too.  But  a  good  man  saw  something  in 
that  boy  while  he  was  being  detained  as  a  witness 
against  his  father.  As  a  result  of  that  man's  inter- 
est, that  boy  to-day  is  serving  his  fellow-men  and  his 
country  in  a  most  important  field." 

In  Pennsylvania  an  eight-year-old  orphan  girl  of 
poor  parentage,  drudge  in  a  city  boarding-house, 
with  no  companionship  except  that  of  ignorant  serv- 
ants, was  heralded  in  the  newspapers  as  a  "  prodigy 
of  crime  "  because  she  had  been  caught  setting  fire 

[11] 


to  a  house.  When  asked  in  court  why  she  had  done 
this,  she  made  the  frank  reply,  "  To  see  the  fire  burn 
and  the  engines  run."  There  being  at  that  time  no 
probation  system  in  Pennsylvania,  she  was  promptly 
sentenced  to  the  House  of  Refuge,  where,  like  the  boy 
sent  to  jail  for  stealing  apples,  she  would  be  sure 
to  come  under  the  influence  of  vile  associates. 

But,  more  fortunate  than  the  boy  of  the  orchard, 
this  child  had  an  unknown  friend  at  court,  Mrs. 
Hannah  K.  Schoff,  who  interceded  with  the  judge 
and  gained  his  permission  to  place  the  little  incen- 
diarist  in  a  good  home  instead  of  the  House  of 
Refuge.  Five  years  afterward,  reporting  to  the 
International  Prison  Commission  the  result  of  her 
experiment,  Mrs.  Schoff  was  able  to  declare  that  this 
dangerous  juvenile  criminal  had  developed  into  "  as 
sweet,  attractive,  and  good  a  child  as  can  be  found 
anywhere." 

An  Italian  Camorrist  had  two  sons.  The 
younger,  at  the  age  of  three,  was  separated  from  his 
father,  taken  to  a  distant  city,  and  given,  a  good 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

education.  Like  the  Juke  child  of  the  eighth  gener- 
ation he  grew  to  be  an  exemplary  young  man.  His 
brother,  who  remained  with  the  father,  became,  like 
him,  a  man  of  vice  and  crime,  hated,  feared,  and  de- 
spised. 

But  far  more  impressive  than  isolated  instances 
like  these  are  the  data  now  available  regarding  the 
outcome  of  similar  experimentation  on  a  large  scale. 
Four  years  ago  the  Children's  Aid  Society  of  New 
York  —  the  organisation  which  took  the  Juke  found- 
ling under  its  wing  —  published  a  report  detailing 
the  results  of  its  "  placing  out  "  system  for  a  period 
of  more  than  half  a  century.  .  The  officials  of  this 
society  have  always  been  imbued  with  the  idea  that 
every  child,  no  matter  how  bad  his  heredity,  is  en- 
titled to  the  benefit  of  a  good  home  upbringing,  and 
in  accordance  with  this  idea  they  have,  during  the 
period  covered  by  the  report,  placed  twenty-eight 
thousand  children  in  carefully  selected  homes,  besides 
finding  situations  in  the  country  for  about  three 
times  as  many  older  boys  and  girls.  Most  of  their 
[13] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

wards  have  been  slum  children,  having  back  of  them 
a  family  history  of  crime,  vice,  insanity,  or  pauper- 
ism. Nevertheless,  the  society's  officials  inform  us: 
"  A  careful  investigation  of  the  records  gives  the 
following  results :  87  per  cent,  have  done  well,  8  per 
cent,  were  returned  to  New  York,  2  per  cent,  died, 
one  quarter  of  1  per  cent,  committed  petty  crimes 
and  were  arrested,  and  2^4  Per  cent,  left  their  homes 
and  disappeared.  These  last  were  larger  boys  of 
restless  disposition,  unaccustomed  to  country  life  or 
any  sort  of  restraint.  Some  of  them  struck  out  for 
themselves,  obtaining  work  at  higher  wages,  and  were 
temporarily  lost  sight  of,  but  years  afterward  we 
hear  of  them  as  having  grown  up  good  and  respected 
citizens.  .  .  .  The  younger  children  placed  out  by 
the  society  always  show  a  very  large  average  of  suc- 
cess. The  great  proportion  have  grown  up  respect- 
able men  and  women,  creditable  members  of  society. 
Many  of  them  have  been  legally  adopted  by  their 
foster-parents.  The  majority  have  become  success- 
ful farmers  or  farmers'  wives,  mechanics,  and  busi- 
[14] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

ness  men.  Many  have  acquired  property,  and  no 
inconsiderable  number  of  them  have  attained  posi- 
tions of  honour  and  trust." 

One  of  the  children  thus  developed  was  a  typical 
waif  of  the  slums,  a  ragged  urchin  loitering  in  the 
streets  of  New  York,  and  sleeping  in  store-entrances 
and  hall-ways,  until  one  day  taken  in  charge  by  a 
kindly  policeman.  Investigation  disclosed  that  he 
was  a  homeless  orphan,  and  until  some  definite  pro- 
vision could  be  made  for  his  upbringing  he  was  com- 
mitted to  the  city  institution  on  Randall's  Island. 
Thence,  after  a  few  months,  he  was  transferred  to 
the  care  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  which  under- 
took to  find  a  home  for  him. 

In  midsummer  of  1859,  accordingly,  he  was  sent 
to  Indiana  with  a  party  of  other  homeless  lads,  and 
was  placed  with  Mr.  E.  E.  Hall,  a  Nobles ville 
farmer.  Two  years  later,  to  the  mingled  grief  and 
pride  of  his  foster-parents,  and  when  not  yet  fifteen 
years  old,  he  enlisted  in  the  service  of  his  country, 
entering  the  army  as  a  drummer-boy.  After  the 
[15] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

war  he  went  back  to  the  Indiana  farm,  and,  employ- 
ing his  leisure  moments  to  good  advantage,  prepared 
for  college.  In  the  seventies,  equipped  with  a  good 
education  and  a  well-disciplined  mind,  he  moved  far- 
ther West.  He  finally  settled  in  North  Dakota, 
where,  after  engaging  successfully  in  various  enter- 
prises, he  became,  in  1881,  the  cashier  of  a  bank. 

His  thoughts  now  turned  to  politics,  into  which 
he  plunged  with  great  vigour,  and  with  every  pros- 
pect of  success,  as  he  had  in  the  meantime  won  for 
himself  a  commanding  position  as  one  of  the  most 
popular  and  trusted  men  in  his  community.  In  1884 
he  ran  for  the  post  of  county  treasurer,  won  his  elec- 
tion, and,  adding  to  his  reputation  by  the  way  he 
conducted  this  office,  held  it  continuously  for  six 
years.  Then  higher  honours  were  thrust  upon  him ; 
for,  in  the  Fall  of  1890,  "  Andy  "  Burke,  the  former 
ragged  New  York  street  boy,  became  Governor  An- 
drew H.  Burke,  of  North  Dakota. 

Closely  paralleling  his  career  is  that  of  another 
New  York  child  derelict,  taken  in  charge  about  the 
[16] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

same  time  as  young  Burke,  and,  by  a  curious  coinci- 
dence, a  companion  of  his  in  the  little  party  of  boys 
sent  to  Indiana  in  1859  by  the  Children's  Aid  Soci- 
ety. The  name  of  this  other  lad  was  John  G.  Brady. 
Before  coming  into  the  keeping  of  the  Society  he 
had  been  deserted  by  his  father,  after  the  death  of 
his  mother.  He  was  just  ten  years  old  when  Mr. 
John  Green,  of  Tipton,  agreed  to  give  him  a  home. 

And  it  was  a  good  home  that  Mr.  Green  gave  him, 
a  home  in  which  he  was  taught  the  value  of  hard, 
earnest  work,  and  of  love  for  God  and  his  fellow- 
man.  Remaining  on  the  farm  until  he  was  eighteen, 
he  then  became  a  school-teacher,  saved  enough  out 
of  his  scanty  earnings  to  give  him  a  start  at  college, 
and  three  years  later  entered  Yale.  By  this  time  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  devote  his  life  to  the  two- 
fold cause  of  religion  and  social  service ;  and  in  1874, 
having  graduated  with  credit  from  Yale,  he  became 
a  student  in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary. 
After  his  ordination  he  went  as  a  missionary  to 
Alaska,  where  his  labours,  both  religious  and  secular, 
[17] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

won  him  a  firm  place  in  the  affections  of  the  people, 
and  lasting  recognition  as  one  of  the  real  makers  of 
that  distant  Territory.  He  was  appointed  gov- 
ernor of  Alaska  by  President  McKinley  in  1897,  and 
reappointed  by  President  Roosevelt,  serving  three 
terms. 

Further,  the  records  show  that  one  ward  of  the 
Children's  Aid  Society  of  New  York  rose  to  be  a 
supreme  court  justice,  another  became  chief  execu- 
tive of  a  Western  city,  while  a  third  was  elected 
auditor-general  of  a  State.  Two  were  elected  to 
Congress,  nine  to  State  legislatures,  and  about  a 
score  to  public  offices  of  less  importance.  Twenty- 
four  became  clergymen;  thirty-five,  lawyers;  nine- 
teen, physicians;  sixteen,  journalists;  twenty-nine, 
bankers ;  eighty-six,  teachers ;  seven,  high-school 
principals ;  two,  school  superintendents ;  and  two,  col- 
lege professors.  Farming,  the  army  and  navy,  and 
various  mercantile  pursuits  gave  occupation  to  most 
of  the  rest. 

Is  it  to  be  wondered,  in  view  of  such  a  showing, 
[18] 


IMPORTANCE    OF   ENVIRONMENT 

that  most  authorities  are  inclining  more  and  more 
to  find  in  a  faulty  environment  rather  than  in  a  bad 
heredity  the  explanation  of  the  boy  who  "  goes 
wrong"?  Not  that  it  is  as  yet  possible,  and  per- 
haps it  never  will  be  possible,  to  rule  out  entirely 
the  idea  of  the  "  born  criminal."  A  small  propor- 
tion of  delinquents  undoubtedly  do  show,  almost  from 
infancy,  an  irresistible  and  seemingly  instinctive  im- 
pulse to  evil;  but  to  just  what  extent  this  is  due 
to  inherited  and  irremediable  conditions  remains  to 
be  ascertained.  Medical  progress,  indeed,  is  con- 
stantly making  it  clearer  that  many  supposed  in- 
stances of  "  innate  depravity  "  are  in  reality  the  re- 
sult of  curable  physical  defects,  and  sometimes  of 
defects  that  are  comparatively  slight. 

To  give  a  typical  example,  Professor  Lightner 
Witmer,  Director  of  the  Psychological  Clinic  of  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania,  was  once  consulted 
about  an  eleven-year-old  boy,  of  good  family,  who 
had  been  pronounced  by  several  New  York  special- 
ists "  mentally  defective "  and  "  certain  to  prove 
[19] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

unmanageable."  His  father  reported  that  he  was 
unable  to  do  correctly  simple  sums  in  addition  and 
subtraction,  and  could  not  read  a  simple  sentence 
without  making  a  number  of  mistakes;  also  that  he 
was  cowardly,  bad-tempered,  and  quarrelsome.  In 
fine,  the  statements  made  concerning  him  seemed  to 
stamp  him  as  a  fit  subject  for  institutional  care. 
But  Professor  Witmer's  preliminary  testing  caused 
him  to  take  a  somewhat  hopeful  view  of  the  poor 
youngster's  condition. 

"  He  was,"  Professor  Witmer  says,  in  an  interest- 
ing report  ,he  has  made  regarding  the  case  (The 
Psychological  Clinic,  vol.  ii,  pp.  153-179),  "  a  stocky, 
well-built,  healthy-looking  child.  He  had  red  hair, 
and  the  expression  of  his  face  suggested  an  unsteady 
temper.  The  brow  was  low,  but  not  of  a  character 
to  awaken  a  suspicion  of  mental  deficiency.  The 
shape  of  the  aperture  of  the  eyes  indicated  a  possible 
arrest  of  foetal  development,  but  this  was  the  only 
suspicious  symptom.  The  teeth  were  in  good  con- 
dition, the  mouth  closed,  the  nose  undeveloped,  the 
[20] 


IMPORTANCE    OF   ENVIRONMENT 

nostrils  small.  A  hasty  examination  showed  the  ne- 
cessity of  consulting  an  oculist,  and  the  appearance 
of  the  nose  and  nostrils  called  for  an  examination  of 
the  naso-pharynx.  The  chest  was  fairly  well  devel- 
oped, the  voice  was  good,  but  he  had  a  lisp,  and  his 
speech  was  a  trifle  thick.  Hearing  was  normal.  His 
manners  at  table  were  good.  His  gait  was  normal, 
the  knee-jerks  were  present  on  both  sides,  the  co- 
ordination of  the  hands  was  good. 

"  In  his  conversation  with  me  and  with  his  family, 
he  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  normal  boy  of  eleven,  rather 
alert  mentally,  a  self-contained,  independent  sort  of 
boy.  If  I  had  visited  the  family  casually,  I  would 
not  have  observed  anything  wrong  with  him.  My 
first  brief  examination  was  therefore  negative,  and 
excepting  for  the  history  which  the  father  and 
mother  gave,  I  should  have  pronounced  the  boy  nor- 
mal, but  probably  suffering  from  some  optical  defect 
and  from  naso-pharyngeal  obstruction." 

A  more  thorough  examination  confirmed  this  ten- 
tative diagnosis.  Although  nothing  of  the  sort  had 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

previously  been  suspected,  it  was  discovered  that  the 
little  fellow  was  nearly  blind  in  one  eye.  Also  he  was 
suffering  from  a  poor  circulation.  On  the  other 
hand,  despite  his  mental  retardation  a  careful  psy- 
chological examination  showed  that  naturally  he  was 
bright  enough.  It  seemed  evident  to  Professor  Wit- 
mer,  consequently,  that  the  chief  cause  for  the  boy's 
mental  and  moral  defects  lay  in  improper  upbring- 
ing, plus  the  eye-strain  which  had  undoubtedly  made 
school  work  difficult  for  him,  and  had  in  addition 
been  a  source  of  neural  irritation.  In  verification  of 
this,  after  he  had  been  provided  with  eye-glasses  and 
given  a  few  months  of  special  training  in  the  hospital 
school  connected  with  the  psychological  clinic,  the 
supposedly  "  feebleminded  child "  not  only  made 
rapid  headway  when  placed  in  a  regular  school,  but 
also  showed  a  surprising  moral  improvement. 

Even  diseases  of  the  teeth  may  play  no  small  part 
in  the  making  of  the  wayward  boy.  There  was 
brought  one  day  to  Professor  Witmer's  clinic  a 
youngster  who  for  months  had  been  the  despair  of 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

his  parents.  He  had  got  completely  beyond  the  con- 
trol of  both  home  and  school  discipline ;  spent  his 
days  idling  in  the  streets;  seemed  incapable  of  tell- 
ing the  truth ;  stole  all  sorts  of  small  articles  belong- 
ing to  his  parents,  including  his  father's  watch,  which 
he  sold  for  five  cents ;  and  had  even  begun  to  steal 
from  the  neighbours,  a  weakness  which  soon  brought 
him  into  the  clutches  of  the  law.  Placed  on  proba- 
tion by  the  judge  of  the  juvenile  court,  he  had  be- 
haved as  badly  as  ever,  until,  as  a  last  resort,  it  was 
decided  to  see  what  the  psychological  clinic  could  do 
for  him. 

Beyond  indications  of  some  slight  eye-strain  noth- 
ing specially  abnormal  was  found  in  his  physical 
condition  until  his  mouth  was  examined.  Then  it 
was  seen  that  a  number  of  his  first  teeth  had  not  been 
shed,  and  that  the  second  teeth  were  forcing  their 
way  out  alongside  the  old  ones,  causing  the  gums  to 
be  greatly  swollen  and  inflamed.  Taken  at  once  to 
the  dental  clinic  he  was  examined  more  carefully  by 
Dean  Edward  C.  Kirk,  who,  advising  gradual  re- 
[23] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

moval  of  the  lingering  first  teeth,  suggested  the  pos- 
sibility that  when  the  boy  was  relieved  of  all  dental 
stress  his  conduct  would  show  marked  improvement. 
The  outcome  fully  justified  this  suggestion.  Says 
Doctor  Arthur  Holmes,  who  watched  the  case  closely 
in  all  its  stages  (The  Psychological  Clinic,  vol.  iv,  pp. 
19-22) : 

"  In  spite  of  Harry's  rebellion  and  loudly  ex- 
pressed fear,  he  was  immediately  relieved  of  one  out- 
grown canine  tooth.  The  effect  was  almost  instan- 
taneous. His  whole  nervous  system  seemed  to  ex- 
press itself  in  one  sigh  of  relief.  .  .  .  From  that  time 
his  improvement  has  been  marked  and  continuous. 
His  teeth  were  removed  gradually  as  it  was  found 
expedient.  Closely  associated  with  this  dental  con- 
dition, and  possibly  aggravated  by  it,  was  an  eye 
weakness  discovered  at  the  eye  clinic.  In  order  to 
insure  proper  treatment,  Harry  was  placed  in  charge 
of  the  social  worker  of  the  psychological  clinic,  who 
saw  that  the  drops  were  regularly  put  in  his  eyes, 
accompanied  him  to  the  eye  specialist,  and  not  only 
[24] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

secured  glasses  for  him  but  accomplished  the  hitherto 
impossible  feat  of  making  him  wear  them. 

"  On  account  of  the  dental  work  and  the  refraction 
of  his  eyes,  he  was  not  sent  back  to  public  school. 
Through  the  psychological  clinic  a  private  school 
was  found  where  the  boy  could  receive  the  intelligent 
and  sympathetic  training  he  needed.  His  whole  de- 
meanour under  the  private  instruction  has  been  that 
of  a  normal  boy.  He  has  been  put  upon  his  honour 
and  trusted  in  numberless  ways,  and  in  every  case  he 
has  justified  the  expectations  of  his  teacher.  He  is 
now  a  healthy  boy,  with  a  boy's  natural  curiosity, 
with  good  manners,  good  temper,  with  no  more  than 
the  average  nervousness,  and  with  every  prospect  of 
taking  his  proper  place  in  society  and  developing  into 
an  efficient  and  moral  citizen." 

A  still  more  remarkable  case  that  has  recently 
come  to  my  knowledge  concerns  a  Cleveland  youth 
who,  up  to  the  age  of  sixteen,  had  been  a  model  of 
good  conduct.  Then,  having  gone  through  high 
school  and  begun  work  with  a  business  firm,  he  sud- 
[25] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

denly  developed  thieving  tendencies,  finally  breaking 
into  a  post-office,  an  exploit  which  earned  for  him  a 
term  in  a  reformatory.  This  was  so  far  from  curing 
him  that  soon  after  his  release  he  adventured  into 
highway  robbery,  was  caught,  and  was  sent  to  jail. 

So  sudden  and  startling  had  been  the  change  in 
his  behaviour  that  the  Cleveland  police  authorities 
were  convinced  he  was  not  responsible  for  his  actions, 
and  advised  his  mother  to  have  him  committed  to  an 
asylum  for  the  insane.  Before  taking  this  extreme 
step  she  had  him  examined  by  a  neurologist,  Doctor 
Henry  S.  Upson,  whose  careful  testing  of  the  boy 
failed  to  disclose  any  signs  of  organic  brain  trouble. 
Dr.  Upson  noticed,  however,  that  his  teeth  were  badly 
decayed,  and  this  led  him  to  suggest  an  X-ray  exam- 
ination, as  a  result  of  which  it  was  discovered  that 
the  youthful  criminal  was  suffering  from  several  ab- 
scessed and  impacted  teeth. 

Following  an  operation  for  their  removal,  there 
was  a  steady  improvement  in  his  moral  as  well  as  his 
physical  health.  When  his  term  of  imprisonment 
[26] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

was  at  an  end  he  found  work  in  a  printing-shop,  and 
at  last  accounts,  a  year  after  the  operation,  had  won 
for  himself  the  reputation  of  being  "  quiet  and  indus- 
trious, self-controlled,  and  without  any  indication 
of  either  moral  or  mental  aberration."  (Tlie  Psy- 
chological Clinic,  vol.  iv,  pp.  150-153.) 

In  a  single  institution  —  the  New  York  Juvenile 
Asylum  —  it  was  found  that  the  degeneracy  of  20 
per  cent,  of  a  group  of  fifty  "  bad  boys,"  who  were 
mentally  as  well  as  morally  backward,  was  due  in 
great  measure  to  similar  trivial  physical  defects, 
adenoids,  enlarged  glands,  eye  and  ear  troubles,  etc. 
Not  so  very  long  ago  these  boys,  like  the  boys  in  the 
individual  instances  mentioned,  would  have  been 
deemed  the  hopeless  victims  of  a  bad  heredity.  It  is 
therefore  fair  to  assume  that  in  time  to  come  other 
remediable,  but  as  yet  unsuspected,  physical  causes 
of  imperfect  mental  and  moral  functioning  will  be 
discovered. 

This  is  not  to  say  that  in  such  cases  medication 
or  the  surgeon's  knife  will  prove  all-sufficient  to  pre- 
[27] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

vent  the  transition  from  "  naughtiness "  into  out- 
right vice  and  crime.  To  this  end  good  moral  train- 
ing will  still  be  the  indispensable  safeguard,  and  par- 
ticularly the  moral  training  to  be  had  through  the 
subtle  influence  of  a  good  home  and  good  associates. 
Surely  as,  for  example,  the  results  of  the  activities 
of  the  New  York  Children's  Aid  Society  strongly 
suggest,  the  home  and  the  companions  of  youth  are 
the  great  determinants  of  character.  As  has  been 
so  well  said  by  Doctor  Paul  Dubois,  the  eminent 
Swiss  physician  and  philosopher  ("  Reason  and  Sen- 
timent," pp.  69-71): 

"  If  you  have  the  happiness  to  be  a  well-living  man, 
take  care  not  to  attribute  the  credit  of  it  to  yourself. 
Remember  the  favourable  conditions  in  which  you 
have  lived,  surrounded  by  relatives  who  loved  you 
and  set  you  a  good  example ;  do  not  forget  the  close 
friends  who  have  taken  you  by  the  hand  and  led  you 
away  from  the  quagmires  of  evil;  keep  a  grateful 
remembrance  for  all  the  teachers  who  have  influenced 
you,  the  kind  and  intelligent  schoolmaster,  the  de- 
[28] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

voted  pastor;  realise  all  these  multiple  influences 
which  have  made  of  you  what  you  are.  Then  you 
will  remember  that  such  and  such  a  culprit  has  not 
in  his  sad  life  met  with  these  favourable  conditions, 
that  he  had  a  drunken  father  or  a  foolish  mother, 
and  that  he  has  lived  without  affection,  exposed  to 
all  kinds  of  temptation.  You  will  then  take  pity 
upon  this  disinherited  man,  whose  mind  has  been 
nourished  upon  malformed  mental  images,  begetting 
evil  sentiments  such  as  immoderate  desire  or  social 
hatred." 

And  it  is  not  only  the  homeless,  deserted,  or  neg- 
lected child,  allowed  to  run  wild  in  the  streets,  drift- 
ing or  forced  into  occupations  which  bring  him  more 
or  less  closely  into  touch  with  the  ways  and  haunts 
of  wrong-doing  —  it  is  not  only  this  child  who  is 
likely  in  time  to  become  a  wrong-doer  himself.  No 
less  than  the  neglected  child  is  the  "  spoiled  "  one, 
however  good  his  heredity,  apt  to  degenerate  into  de- 
linquency, perhaps  into  criminality  of  the  worst  de- 
scription. In  short,  to  borrow  Pascal's  pregnant 
[29] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

phrase,  every  child  at  the  outset  of  his  life  is  a  little 
impulsive  being,  pushed  indifferently  toward  good 
or  evil  according  to  the  influences  which  surround 
him. 

The  blame,  then,  for  the  boy  who  "  goes  wrong  " 
does  not  rest  with  the  boy  himself,  or  yet  with  his  re- 
mote ancestors.  It  rests  squarely  with  the  parents 
who,  through  ignorance  or  neglect,  have  failed  to 
mould  him  aright  in  the  plastic  days  of  childhood. 
What  is  needed,  especially  in  this  complex  civilisation 
of  ours,  with  its  myriad  incitements  and  temptations, 
is  a  livelier  appreciation  of  the  responsibilities  as 
well  as  the  privileges  of  parenthood.  Most  of  all, 
perhaps,  from  the  point  of  view  of  coping  with  the 
problem  of  wrong-doing,  do  parents  need  to  appre- 
ciate that  it  is  in  the  very  first  years  of  their  chil- 
dren's lives  that  the  work  of  character-building 
should  be  begun. 

In  this  connection  a  curious  story  is  told  of  a 
father  and  mother,  who,  full  of  that  sublime  eager- 
ness for  the  welfare  of  their  young  which  every  par- 
[30] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

ent  ought  to  have,  took  their  only  child,  a  handsome 
boy  of  three,  to  an  old  Greek  philosopher. 

"  We  want  you,"  said  they,  "  to  take  full  charge 
of  our  child's  education,  and  do  the  best  you  can  for 
him." 

"  How  old  is  he?  "  the  philosopher  asked. 

"  Just  three." 

The  sage  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "  but  you  have  brought  him 
to  me  too  late." 

Modern  students  of  the  nature  of  man  are  begin- 
ning to  realise  that  there  is  a  world  of  truth  in  this 
reply.  They  are  beginning  to  realise,  that,  even  in 
the  period  of  dawning  intelligence,  interests  may  be 
created,  habits  formed,  which  all  the  education  of 
later  years  may  not  wholly  eradicate.  Most  people, 
looking  back  at  their  years  of  childhood,  are  chiefly 
impressed  by  the  fact  that  they  remember  very  little 
of  what  then  happened.  Actually,  deep  in  the  re- 
cesses of  their  minds,  they  possess  a  subconscious 
remembrance  that  may  be  both  remarkably  extensive 
[31] 


and  almost  incredibly  potent  in  affecting  their  later 
development. 

The  truth  of  this  will  become  increasingly  evident 
as  we  proceed.  Here  let  us  pause  for  only  one  illus- 
trative instance,  taken  from  the  experience  of  one  of 
the  most  talked  about  of  American  women,  Miss 
Helen  Keller,  who,  as  is  well  known,  was  left  by  ill- 
ness deaf,  dumb,  and  blind  when  less  than  two  years 
old,  but  has  nevertheless,  by  careful  training,  been 
developed  into  a  woman  of  brilliant  attainments. 

Among  her  many  accomplishments  not  the  least 
astonishing  is  her  power  for  appreciating  music, 
which  she  "  hears  "  by  placing  her  hand  lightly  on 
the  piano  and  receiving  its  vibrations.  It  occurred 
to  Doctor  Louis  Waldstein,  a  pioneer  in  the  study 
of  subconscious  mental  processes,  that  quite  possibly 
her  appreciation  of  music  was  connected  with  latent 
memories  of  music  she  had  heard  before  her  illness. 
To  test  this  theory  he  obtained  from  her  mother  cop- 
ies of  two  songs  which  had  often  been  sung  to  Miss 
Keller  as  an  infant  in  Alabama,  but  which  she  had  not 
[32] 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

heard  since.  These  he  played  in  her  presence,  with 
a  remarkable  effect.  She  became  much  excited, 
clapped  her  hands,  laughed,  and  communicated: 

"  Father  carrying  baby  up  and  down,  swinging 
her  on  his  knee !  Black  Crow !  Black  Crow !  " 

It  was  evident  to  all  present  that  she  had  been 
drawn  back  in  memory  to  the  surroundings  of  her  in- 
fancy. But  no  one  knew  what  she  meant  by  the 
words  "  Black  Crow,"  until  her  mother,  in  answer 
to  a  letter  of  inquiry,  explained  that  this  was  the 
title  of  a  third  song  which  her  father  used  to  sing  to 
her. 

"  What  you  wrote,"  commented  Mrs.  Keller,  "  in- 
terested us  very  much.  The  '  Black  Crow  '  is  her 
father's  standard  song,  which  he  sings  to  all  his  chil- 
dren as  soon  as  they  can  sit  on  his  knee.  These  are 
the  words,  '  Gwine  'long  down  the  old  turn  row, 
something  hollered,  Hello,  Joe,'  etc.  It  was  a  sov- 
ereign remedy  for  putting  them  (the  children)  in  a 
good  humour,  and  was  sung  to  Helen  hundreds  of 
times.  It  is  possible  that  she  remembers  it  from  its 
[33] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

being  sung  to  the  younger  children  as  well  as  her- 
self. The  other  two  I  am  convinced  she  has  no  asso- 
ciation with,  unless  she  can  remember  them  as  she 
heard  them  before  her  illness.  Certainly  before  her 
illness  her  father  used  to  trot  her  on  his  knee,  and 
sing  the  *  Ten  Virgins,'  and  she  would  get  down  and 
shout  as  the  negroes  do  in  church.  It  was  very 
amusing.  But  after  she  lost  her  sight  and  hearing,  it 
was  a  very  painful  association,  and  was  not  sung  to 
these  two  little  ones  "  (the  younger  children). 

Almost  by  itself  this  impressive  bit  of  evidence  jus- 
tifies Doctor  Waldstein's  unhesitating  declaration, 
as  set  forth  in  his  interesting  book,  "  The  Subcon- 
scious Self  " : 

"  In  those  early  impressions  of  which  no  one  seems 
to  be  conscious,  least  of  all  the  child,  and  which 
gather  up  power  as  the  rolling  avalanche,  the  ele- 
ments are  collected  for  future  emotions,  moods,  acts, 
that  make  up  a  greater  part  of  the  history  of  the 
individual  and  of  States,  more  effective  and  signifi- 
cant than  those  that  are  written  down  in  memoires, 
[34]  ^ 


IMPORTANCE    OF    ENVIRONMENT 

however  intimes,  or  that  can  be  discovered  in  archives, 
however  '  secret.'  The  strange  vagaries  of  affection 
and  passion,  which  affect  the  whole  existence  of  men 
and  women  —  the  racial  and  religious  prejudices 
that  shake  States  and  communities  to  their  very  foun- 
dations, that  make  and  unmake  reputations,  and  set 
the  wheel  of  progress  back  into  the  dark  ages  —  can 
be  traced  to  such  small  beginnings  and  into  those 
nooks  of  man's  subconscious  memory." 

Decidedly,  bearing  in  mind  this  principle  of  tlje  im- 
portance of  early  impressions,  the  education  of  the 
child  should  be  begun  while  he  still  is  in  the  cradle 
—  and  should  in  especial  include  a  careful  arranging 
of  his  environment,  both  animate  and  inanimate,  so 
as  to  put  most  effectively  into  play  that  greatest  of 
all  educational  forces,  "  suggestion." 


[35] 


SUGGESTION  IN  EDUCATION 


II 

SUGGESTION  IN  EDUCATION 


1 


term  "  suggestion  "  has  of  late  fallen 
into  undeserved  disrepute.  To  most  peo- 
ple, as  a  result  of  its  frequent  linking  with 
the  term  "  hypnotism,"  it  implies  something  excep- 
tional and  weird.  Yet  in  reality  suggestion  is  one 
of  the  most  universal  of  facts,  and  there  is  nothing 
"  uncanny "  about  it.  Properly  defined  it  means 
nothing  more  than  the  intrusion  of  an  idea  into  the 
mind  in  such  fashion  that  it  is  accepted  automati- 
cally, overcomes  all  contrary  ideas,  and  leads  to  a 
specific  course  of  action.  The  slightest  reflection 
will  show  that  this  is  of  frequent  occurrence. 

Every  time  I  yawn  after  having  seen  another  per- 
son do  so,  I  am  acting  on  the  suggestion  given  to  me 
by  his  action.     Every  time,  after  reading  a  skilfully 
worded  advertisement,  I  buy  something  which  I  do 
[39] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

not  really  need,  I  am  again  acting  under  the  influence 
of  suggestion.  So,  too,  when,  in  a  moment  of 
abstraction,  I  imitate  any  act  perceived  subcon- 
sciously, as  in  the  amusing  instance  related  by  Pro- 
fessor Ochorowitz  in  his  book,  "  Mental  Suggestion  " : 

"  My  friend,  P ,  a  man  no  less  absent-minded 

than  he  is  keen  of  intellect,  was  playing  chess  in  a 
neighbouring  room.  Others  of  us  were  talking  near 
the  door.  I  had  made  the  remark  that  it  was  my 
friend's  habit  when  he  paid  the  closest  attention  to 
the  game  to  whistle  an  air  from  *  Madame  Angot.'  I 
was  about  to  accompany  him  by  beating  time  on  the 
table.  But  this  time  he  whistled  something  else  —  a 
march  from  *  Le  Prophete.' 

"  *  Listen,'  said  I  to  my  associates, '  we  are  going  to 

play  a  trick  upon  P .  We  will  order  him  to  pass 

from  "  Le  Prophete "  to  "  La  Fille  de  Madame 
Angot."  ' 

"  First  I  began  to  drum  the  march ;  then,  profiting 
by  some  notes  common  to  both,  I  passed  to  the 
quicker  and  more  staccato  notes  of  my  friend's 
[40] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

favourite  air.  P on  his  part  suddenly  changed 

the  air,  and  began  to  whistle  '  Madame  Angot.' 
Every  one'  burst  out  laughing.  My  friend  was  too 
absorbed  in  a  check  to  the  queen  to  notice  anything. 

"  *  Let  us  begin  again,'  said  I, '  and  go  back  to  "  Le 
Prophete."  And  straightway  we  had  Meyerbeer 
once  more,  with  a  special  fugue.  My  friend  knew 
that  he  had  whistled  something,  but  that  was  all  he 
knew." 

Here,  obviously,  we  have  on  the  part  of  the  man 
accepting  and  acting  on  the  idea  suggested  to  him, 
a  temporary  suspension  of  the  critical  faculty.  Had 
he  been  on  the  alert,  had  he  been  aware  of  Professor 
Ochorowitz's  intention,  he  would  never  have  followed 
the  lead  thus  given,  refraining  from  doing  so  if  only 
from  fear  of  appearing  ridiculous.  This  element  of 
uncritical,  automatic  acceptance  is  fundamental  in 
suggestion,  and  it  is  this  that  makes  suggestion  such 
a  tremendously  important  factor  in  the  life  of  the 
young. 

The  child,  it  has  often  been  said,  is  the  most  imita- 
[41] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

tive  of  beings.  This  is  only  another  way  of  saying 
that  childhood  is  the  most  suggestible  period  of  life. 
Precisely  because  the  critical  faculty  is  then  unde- 
veloped the  child  readily  accepts  and  translates  into 
some  form  of  action  the  suggestions  impinging  on 
his  mind  from  the  external  world.  Necessarily  some 
impressions  are  experienced  by  him  more  frequently 
than  others,  and  by  the  very  fact  of  repetition  these 
tend  to  induce  in  him  a  more  or  less  fixed  mode  of 
reaction.  Thus,  without  the  slightest  awareness,  he 
acquires  good  or  bad  "  habits "  of  thinking  and 
acting,  and  displays  moods  and  tendencies  which, 
often  regarded  by  parents  as  quite  inexplicable,  are 
the  logical  and  inevitable  product  of  suggestions  with 
which  he  has  been  bombarded  since  his  life  began. 

In  this  way  are  to  be  explained  many  personal 
characteristics  often  mistakenly  attributed  to  the 
influence  of  heredity.  If  a  man  is  a  "  grouch,"  and 
his  young  son  also  displays  unmistakable  signs  of 
grouchiness,  it  would  indeed  be  rash  to  jump  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  son  had  been  born  grouchy.  It 
[42] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

may  well  be  —  the  chances  are,  it  is  —  that  he  has 
acquired  a  grouchy  turn  of  mind  simply  through 
imitation  of  his  father's  habitual  attitude.  "  A 
little  girl  only  fifteen  months  old,"  to  quote  one 
observation  by  that  careful  student  of  child  life,  B. 
Perez,  "  had  already  begun  to  imitate  her  father's 
frowns  and  irritable  ways  and  angry  voice,  and  very 
soon  after  she  learned  to  use  his  expressions  of  anger 
and  impatience.  When  three  years  old  this  child 
gravely  said  to  a  visitor,  with  whom  she  argued  quite 
in  her  father's  style,  *  Do  be  quiet,  will  you  ?  You 
never  let  me  finish  my  sentences.' ' 

Similarly,  peculiarities  that  seem  to  be  wholly 
physical  may  thus  be  handed  on  from  father  to  child 
—  characteristic  gestures  with  the  hands,  pursing 
of  the  mouth  when  reading,  shrugging  the  shoulders, 
etc.  Even  left-handedness,  often  conspicuous  as  a 
family  trait,  is  probably,  in  a  certain  proportion  of 
cases  at  all  events,  the  result  of  imitation  rather  than 
heredity.  In  one  interesting  case  cited  by  Doctor 
Waldstein  ("The  Subconscious  Self,"  pp.  56-59), 
[43] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

an  English  lady,  Miss  X ,  had  lost  her  mother 

when  less  than  three  years  of  age.  A  year  after- 
ward, during  her  first  attempts  at  sewing,  it  was 
noticed  that  she  was  threading  her  needle  with  her 
left  hand.  This  had  been  the  habit  of  her  mother, 
and  Mrs.  X — —  herself  continued  throughout  her 
life  to  use  her  left  hand  in  threading  needles,  although 
she  was  otherwise  right-handed. 

"  Surely,"  said  she  to  Doctor  Waldstein,  "  this  is 
an  example  of  inheritance,  for  I  could  not  have  been 
taught  to  sew  by  my  mother." 

When,  however,  he  inquired  closely  into  this  lady's 
mental  make-up,  he  soon  discovered  that  she  was  most 
impressionable,  easily  and  unduly  affected  by  her 
surroundings,  full  of  prejudices,  and  given  to  sudden 
likes  and  dislikes.  Manifestly,  if  in  adult  life  she  was 
so  suggestible,  she  must  have  been  even  more  sug- 
gestible in  early  childhood,  and  Doctor  Waldstein 
promptly  asked  himself  the  question : 

"  Is  it  not  more  natural  to  assume  that  the  moth- 
er's habit  of  threading  a  needle  with  her  left  hand,  wit- 
[44] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

nessed  daily  during  the  first  three  years  of  childhood, 
left  its  effect  upon  the  ductile  memory  of  the  child, 
so  that  she  adopted  the  same  habit  in  the  absence  of 
other  teaching,  than  to  assume  a  needle-threading 
centre  on  the  right  side  of  the  brain  of  this  particular 
individual  ?  " 

In  view,  then,  of  the  extreme  suggestibility  of 
childhood,  and  in  view  of  the  fact  that  under  ordinary 
circumstances  the  impressions  most  forcibly  imping- 
ing on  a  child's  mind  are  those  emanating  from  his 
parents,  a  good  parental  example  is  the  first  essential 
in  utilising  the  power  of  suggestion  as  an  aid  in  edu- 
cation. This  may  sound  trite,  but  how  many  parents 
appreciate  all  that  it  involves  ? 

It  means  the  regulation  of  the  whole  family  life 
with  the  special  purpose  of  creating  for  the  child  a 
ceaseless  flow  of  suggestions  which,  being  subcon- 
sciously absorbed  by  him,  will  give  a  desirable  "  set " 
to  his  mind.  Not  merely  in  their  dealings  with  the 
child  but  in  their  intercourse  with  one  another,  with 
all  other  members  of  the  family,  even  with  casual 
[45] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

visitors,  the  father  and  mother  will  have  to  be  con- 
stantly on  the  alert  to  manifest  only  those  traits 
which  they  desire  to  see  dominant  in  their  little  one. 
If  they  wish  him  to  be  courteous,  they  themselves  must 
be  courteous ;  if  they  wish  him  to  grow  up  industrious, 
they  must  be  models  of  enthusiastic  industry ;  if  they 
wish  to  develop  in  him  sentiments  of  unselfishness, 
they  must  banish  selfishness  from  their  hearts. 

In  a  word,  they  must  think  and  behave  as  they 
desire  him  to  think  and  behave,  and,  so  far  as  is 
humanly  possible,  they  must  thus  behave  all  the  time. 
This  of  course  necessitates  considerable  self-restraint 
and  self -training  on  the  parents'  part ;  but  it  is  abso- 
lutely indispensable.  The  child's  eyes  and  ears  are 
always  wide  open ;  his  suggestibility  is  such  that  he  is 
prone  to  absorb  and  react  to  any  inconsistency  of 
parental  speech  or  behaviour,  no  matter  how  occa- 
sional or  seemingly  insignificant  it  may  be.  If  the 
father,  in  a  moment  of  irritation,  eases  his  feelings 
by  a  vigorous  expletive,  the  mother  may  be  horrified 
next  day  when  her  little  boy  utters  a  strange-sound- 
[46] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

ing  word.  If  the  mother,  to  avoid  a  tiresome  caller, 
tells  a  "  white  lie  "  through  the  maid-servant  who 
answers  the  caller's  ring,  neither  father  nor  mother 
need  be  astonished  if  their  little  girl  unexpectedly 
displays  a  tendency  to  untruthfulness ;  it  is  not  a 
manifestation  of  "  innate  depravity,"  it  is  only 
another  illustration  of  the  power  of  suggestion  to 
affect  the  growing  child. 

Even  such  a  "  small  matter  "  as  the  discussion  of 
the  news  of  the  day  may  become  a  potent  factor  for 
evil  in  the  development  of  the  child.  There  are  not 
a  few  parents  who,  entirely  unmindful  of  their  chil- 
dren's presence,  retail  to  each  other  the  petty  chit- 
chat, the  scandals,  the  deeds  of  violence  and  crime, 
which  so  many  of  our  newspapers  injudiciously 
"  feature."  At  the  time  the  child  may  seem  to  be 
paying  no  heed  to  the  parental  discussion;  but,  if 
only  because  it  is  a  discussion  between  his  parents,  it 
is  certain  to  make  a  profound  impression  upon  him, 
perhaps  to  the  extent  of  prompting  him  to  imitate 
the  deeds  in  question.  Hence,  in  his  games,  he  plays 
[47] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

pirate,  bandit,  train-robber;  and  sometimes  runs 
away  from  home  and  "  starts  West,"  to  play  bandit 
and  train-robber  in  earnest.  In  this  way,  to  the 
sorrowing  parents'  amazement,  seeds  often  are  un- 
wittingly sown  to  grow  into  poisonous  plants. 

No  less  mischievous  is  the  discussion,  in  the  child's 
hearing,  of  such  frequent  subjects  of  conversation  as 
the  latest  musical  comedy  or  "  problem  play,"  the 
"  novel  of  the  hour,"  the  fluctuations  of  the  stock 
market,  the  new  fashions  in  gowns,  the  fortunes  of 
the  local  professional  baseball  team.  Parents  whose 
interests  are  thus  lamentably  limited,  qr  who  choose 
to  talk  about  little  else,  need  not  be  surprised  if  their 
child  manifests  a  colossal  indifference  to  things  really 
worth  while.  For  his  sake,  if  not  for  their  own,  they 
should  cultivate  an  intelligent  interest  in  good  books, 
good  music,  good  art.  Discussing  these,  they  will 
just  as  surely  enlarge  his  mental  and  moral  horizon, 
as  by  discussing  inferior  themes  they  will  limit  it. 

And  —  another  point  of  prime  importance  — 
whatever  they  talk  about,  they  should  make  it  a 
[48] 


practice  to  use  only  clear,  correct  language,  and 
should  insist  on  their  child  doing  the  same.  Above 
all,  they  should  not  converse  with  him  in  "  baby  talk," 
or  permit  any  linguistic  errors  he  may  make  to  go 
uncorrected.  They  should  not  do  this  for  several 
reasons,  chief  among  which  is  the  fact  that  an  incor- 
rect diction  is  itself  a  great  obstacle  to  correct  think- 
ing. 

"  Language,"  as  one  able  student  of  human  de- 
velopment, Doctor  A.  A.  Berle,  has  recently  pointed 
out  in  his  valuable  book  for  parents,  "  The  School  in 
the  Home,"  "  is  the  tool  of  knowledge.  It  is  the 
instrument  by  which  we  gain  and  garner  information, 
by  which  we  co-ordinate  what  we  know  and  make 
inferences  and  express  results.  But  if  you  blunt  the 
tool,  not  to  say  destroy  it,  before  you  begin  to  use 
it,  how  are  you  ever  to  get  knowledge  in  any  proper 
or  real  sense?  Everything  depends  upon  this  tool. 
The  mastery  of  a  proper  use  of  the  mother  tongue 
is  the  first  and  last  requisite  of  sound  and  extensive 
mental  development.  Language  is  the  key  to  every- 
[49] 


thing  that  pertains  to  human  life.  Once  get  a 
language  and  you  have  the  key  to  manners,  civilisa- 
tion, habits,  customs,'  history,  and  all  the  complex 
and  fascinating  story  of  humanity.  Because  you  get 
all  these  tilings  by  reading  about  them,  and  to  read 
you  must  know  the  language  and  you  must  know  it 
accurately  and  extensively,  and  be  able  to  follow  the 
masters  of  it  who  have  embodied  their  great  ideas  in 
literature.  That  process  begins  almost  at  the  cradle. 
It  begins  by  cultivating  accuracy  and  skill  in  the  use 
of  the  tongue.  It  begins  by  striking  at,  and  out, 
every  false  thing,  the  moment  it  appears." 

And,  commenting  on  the  special  dangers  of  "  baby 
talk,"  Doctor  Berle  justly  observes: 

"  It  is  not  enough  that  a  word  be  spoken.  It 
makes  a  great  deal  of  difference  how  it  is  spoken. 
The  proper  vocalisation  of  words  has  an  effect  upon 
children,  which  is  often,  one  may  say  generally,  over- 
looked. Almost  everybody  is  fond  of  repeating  the 
baby's  efforts  to  talk,  and  4  baby  talk '  lingers  in 
many  homes  an  innocent  but  costly  pleasure,  for  the 
[50] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

parents  and  the  children  alike.  There  are  many 
persons  of  mature  age  at  this  moment  who  will  never 
pronounce  certain  words  properly,  since  they  became 
accustomed  to  a  false  pronunciation  in  childhood, 
because  somebody  thought  it  was  *  cute.'  There  are 
many  persons  who  will  never  get  over  certain  false 
associations  of  ideas,  because  somebody  thought  it 
was  very  amusing  and  funny  to  see  the  child  mixing 
up  things  in  such  a  beautifully  childlike  way." 

Putting  into  practice  this  first  principle  of  educa- 
tion through  the  suggestive  power  of  a  parental 
example  characterised  by  correctness  of  speech, 
soundness  of  thought,  and  the  moral  qualities  of 
cheerfulness,  unselfishness,  kindness,  politeness,  in- 
dustriousness,  and  the  other  virtues,  the  greatest  care 
must  also  be  taken  to  "  fertilise  "  the  child's  mind 
through  proper  adjustment  of  his  physical  surround- 
ings. Nothing  is  more  certain  —  and  least  appre- 
ciated by  the  average  parent  —  than  the  fact  that 
every  detail  in  the  child's  material  environment  is  of 
suggestive  significance  to  him.  Even  the  pictures  on 
[51] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

the  walls  of  his  room,  the  design  and  arrangement  of 
the  furniture  and  ornaments,  the  pattern  and  colour- 
ing of  the  wall-paper,  may  play  a  decisive  part  in 
shaping  his  character  and  quickening  or  deadening 
his  intellectual  activities.  For  the  matter  of  that,  as 
observation  and  experiment  have  repeatedly  demon- 
strated, adults  almost  as  much  as  children  react  to 
the  suggestive  influence  of  their  home  environment, 
even  to  the  extent  at  times  of  thereby  being  unfavour- 
ably affected  in  health. 

That  is  why  sick  people  are  so  frequently  benefited 
by  change  of  scene.  Travel  removes  them  from  the 
baneful  influence  of  their  accustomed  environment, 
and  assists  in  breaking  down  the  mental  habits  in- 
jurious, to  their  well-being.  Too  often,  however,  to 
their  bitter  disappointment,  they  suffer  a  relapse 
after  returning  home.  Yet  they  need  not  remain 
abroad  indefinitely  in  order  to  obtain  a  lasting  cure. 
In  many  instances  they  need  not  go  abroad  at  all, 
but  can  secure  the  desired  result  by  making  a  change 
in  their  home  surroundings.  A  most  instructive  case 
[52] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

in  point  is  afforded  by  an  experience  that  occurred  to 
Mr.  Frank  Alvah  Parsons,  a  practical  psychologist 
as  well  as  a  successful  teacher  of  art  in  New  York 
city. 

The  mother  of  one  of  Mr.  Parsons'  pupils  had  long 
been  regarded  as  a  hopeless  sufferer  from  "  nerves." 
She  lived  in  a  suburban  town,  not  many  miles  from 
New  York,  but  her  condition  was  such  that  it  had 
been  months  since  she  visited  that  city,  and  usually 
she  remained  at  home,  secluded  in  a  private  apart- 
ment of  sitting-room  and  bedroom. 

One  day,  having  occasion  to  call  on  her,  Mr.  Par- 
sons was  much  impressed  with  the  fact  that  the 
furniture  and  decorations  of  both  these  rooms  were 
exceedingly  faulty  from  a  psychological  as  well  as  an 
aesthetic  point  of  view.  The  walls  of  the  sitting-room 
were  hung  with  mirrors,  and  the  room  was  fairly 
smothered  with  bric-a-brac.  In  both  rooms  the 
colouring  and  design  of  the  wall-paper  contrasted 
harshly  with  the  floor-coverings,  while  the  furniture, 
though  expensive,  was  gaudy  and  inharmonious.  He 
[53] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

talked  the  situation  over  with  her  daughter,  and  be- 
tween them  they  persuaded  her  to  allow  them  to  make 
radical  alterations  in  the  furnishings  of  her  rooms. 

They  papered  the  walls  with  a  soft  sage-green 
paper,  without  design.  The  woodwork  was  made 
lighter,  with  a  shade  of  green  in  it.  A  brass  bedstead 
was  installed,  the  yellow  of  the  brass  blending  well 
with  the  green  of  the  paper  and  woodwork.  The 
bric-a-brac  was  unceremoniously  bundled  out,  and, 
excepting  for  a  few  green  draperies  and  some  well- 
chosen  pictures,  the  rooms  were  left  without  orna- 
ment. Mahogany  furniture,  of  a  quiet,  dignified 
style,  replaced  the  gilded  chairs  and  tables  previously 
there. 

The  effect  was  to  substitute  for  the  former  nerve- 
irritating  environment  one  that  gave  out  a  constant 
stream  of  restful,  soothing,  strengthening  sugges- 
tions ;  and  the  therapeutic  value  of  the  change  was 
increased  by  Mr.  Parsons  wisely  insisting  that  the 
patient  should  not  leave  the  refurnished  rooms  for 
two  weeks.  He  desired  to  expose  her,  at  once  and 
[54] 


systematically,  to  the  full  suggestive  effect  of  her 
new  surroundings.  At  the  end  of  a  month,  although 
she  had  been  told  that  she  would  be  an  invalid  for 
life,  she  felt  strong  enough  to  undertake  a  shopping 
expedition  to  New  York,  and  soon  was  as  well  as  in 
her  earlier  days  of  robust  health. 

In  this  case,  of  course,  the  cure  was  effected  at  a 
cost  beyond  the  means  of  most  people.  It  is  not 
everybody  who  can  afford  to  refurnish  and  redecor- 
ate his  living-quarters.  But  the  point  is  that  every- 
body can  so  arrange  his  environment  to  begin  with  as 
to  extract  from  it  suggestions  that  will  assist  in  main- 
taining his  health  and  happiness,  and  in  promoting 
the  proper  upbringing  of  his  children.  This  is 
equally  within  the  reach  of  a  dweller  in  a  Fifth  Avenue 
mansion,  a  Newport  palace,  a  crowded  East  Side 
tenement,  or  a  lonely,  isolated  farm-house,  miles  from 
the  nearest  village.  I  might  cite  many  illustrative 
instances  to  bear  out  this  statement.  Here  is  one, 
reported  by  an  observant  New  York  physician : 

"  The  refined  tastes  and  joyous  dispositions  of 
[55] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  elder  children  in  a  family  with  whom  I  often  came 
into  contact  were  a  matter  of  some  surprise  to  me, 
as  I  could  not  account  for  the  common  trait  among 
them  by  the  position  or  special  characteristics  of  the 
parents:  they  were  in  the  humblest  position  socially, 
and  all  but  poor.  My  first  visit  to  their  modest  home 
furnished  me  with  the  natural  solution,  and  gave  me 
much  food  for  reflection. 

"  The  children  —  there  were  six  —  occupied  two 
rooms  into  which  the  sunlight  was  pouring  as  I 
entered;  the  remaining  rooms  of  the  apartment  were 
sunless  for  the  greater  part  of  the  day;  the  colour 
and  design  of  the  cheap  wall-paper  were  cheerful  and 
unobtrusive;  bits  of  carpet,  the  table-cover,  and  the 
coverlets  on  the  beds  were  all  in  harmony,  and  of 
quiet  design  in  nearly  the  elementary  colours ;  every- 
thing in  these  poor  rooms  of  poor  people  had  been 
chosen  with  the  truest  judgment  for  aesthetic  effect, 
and  yet  the  mother  seemed  surprised  that  I  could 
make  so  much  of  what  seemed  to  her  so  simple." 

That  colours  have  a  profound  psychological  effect 
[56] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

on  human  beings  is  a  fact  which  should  be  appre- 
ciated far  more  generally  than  is  now  the  case.  Used 
in  small  quantities,  either  in  the  clothing  or  in  house- 
hold decoration,  the  colour  red,  for  instance,  is  most 
stimulating,  both  in  the  way  of  helping  to  overcome 
depression,  and  quickening  the  intellectual  processes. 
But  when  used  in  any  great  amount  it  tends  to  over- 
stimulation,  with  resultant  nerve-strain.  Accord- 
ing to  an  English  savant,  Havelock  Ellis,  who  has 
made  a  careful  study  of  the  psychology  of  colours, 
there  are  some  people  so  constituted  that  they  become 
violently  excited,  fall  into  convulsions,  or  faint,  if 
obliged  even  for  a  short  time  to  look  at  anything 
vividly  red. 

The  same  effect  has  been  noted  from  yellow.  In 
one  instance,  the  case  of  a  man  operated  on  at  the 
age  of  thirty  for  congenital  cataract,  it  is  recorded 
that  "  the  first  time  he  saw  yellow,  he  became  so  sick 
that  he  thought  he  would  vomit."  And  that  yellow 
has  a  nerve-stimulating  effect  fully  comparable  with 
that  of  red  is  curiously  indicated  by  the  statement  of 
[57] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

a  friend  of  mine,  a  professor  in  a  Western  university, 
who  says: 

"  Whenever  the  day  is  overcast,  or  I  have  to  do  a 
piece  of  work  calling  for  unusual  mental  exertion,  I 
always  wear  a  red  or  yellow  necktie.  I  find  that 
either  colour  has  a  stimulating  effect  on  my  mental 
processes." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  colour  violet  appears  to 
have  a  deadening  effect.  Another  acquaintance,  a 
member  of  the  Harvard  University  professorial  staff, 
and  a  well-known  psychologist,  assures  me  that  the 
sight  of  anything  violet  almost  nauseates  him,  and 
gives  rise  to  a  most  depressed  feeling.  In  such  a 
case,  however,  it  may  be  that  the  colour  is  subcon- 
sciously associated  with  some  unpleasant  occurrence 
in  the  earlier  life,  and  that  the  nausea  and  depression 
are  merely  symbolical  manifestations  of  the  presence 
in  the  subconsciousness  of  some  memory  of  this  oc- 
currence, concerning  which  there  is  no  conscious 
recollection.  (This  important  point  will  later  be 
discussed  in  detail.) 

[58] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

Of  more  immediate  significance  is  the  fact  that 
violet  rays  are  sometimes  used  to  quiet  unruly 
patients  in  asylums  for  the  insane,  and  that  the 
alienist  Osburne,  after  many  years*  experience,  testi- 
fies that  "  in  the  absence  of  structural  disease,  violet 
light  —  for  from  three  to  six  hours  —  is  most  useful 
in  the  treatment  of  excitement,  sleeplessness,  and 
acute  mania." 

Altogether,  there  is  warrant  for  the  assertion  that 
red,  yellow,  and  violet  are  colours  that  should  not  be 
used  overmuch,  either  in  one's  apparel  or  in  the 
decorating  of  one's  home.  Blue,  green,  grey,  and 
brown,  on  the  contrary,  have  psychological  qualities 
that  make  them  particularly  desirable  for  decorative 
purposes. 

Care  must  always  be  exercised,  though,  ?o  work 
out  a  colour  scheme  that  harmonises,  since  discordant 
colour  eiFects  inevitably  carry  to  the  mind  sugges- 
tions of  discordant  thinking  and  feeling  and  doing. 
As  a  first  aid  to  the  study  of  colour  harmony  —  a  sub- 
ject which,  as  soon  as  its  significance  to  human  wel- 
[59] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

fare  is  more  generally  recognised,  will  be  taught  far 
more  systematically  than  at  present  —  I  recommend 
painstaking  observation  of  the  colour  schemes  de- 
veloped by  master  artists,  as  shown  in  the  paintings 
to  be  seen  in  the  art  museums  of  our  cities ;  or,  better 
still,  excursions  into  the  country,  where,  in  the  colour 
combinations  of  earth  and  sky,  tree  and  water,  moun- 
tainside and  valley  meadow,  one  can  gain  invaluable 
hints  from  that  greatest  of  artists,  Nature.  On  such 
excursions,  need  I  add,  the  children  should  be  taken 
along,  to  receive  early  lessons  in  the  appreciation  of 
true  beauty. 

But  now,  while  thus  utilising  to  the  full  the  educa- 
tional possibilities  opened  by  the  suggestibility  of 
childhood  —  while  reinforcing  the  educational  value 
of  example  by  the  educational  value  of  a  well-ar- 
ranged home  environment  —  it  must  also  be  recog- 
nised that  the  child's  extreme  suggestibility  carries 
with  it  certain  dangers.  As  was  said,  the  essential 
element  in  every  successful  suggestion  is  the  auto- 
matic, uncritical  acceptance  of  whatever  idea  is  thus 
[60] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

intruded  into  the  mind.  It  goes  without  saying 
that,  so  long  as  the  critical  faculty  remains  un- 
awakened  and  untrained,  it  will  always  be  possible  to 
intrude  by  suggestion  erroneous  as  well  as  sound 
ideas. 

More  serious  still,  there  is  warrant  for  adding  that 
unless  the  child's  critical  powers  be  developed  at  an 
early  age  —  unless  he  be  taught  from  the  outset  of 
his  life  how  to  observe  accurately  and  reason  closely 
—  the  tendency  to  uncritical  acceptance  may  become 
more  or  less  of  a  habit.  That,  under  present  condi- 
tions of  child  training,  this  is  a  real  danger  is  clearly 
shown  by  the  results  of  recent  experiments  by  French 
and  German  psychologists. 

In  Germany,  Kosog,  visiting  a  schoolroom  before 
the  beginning  of  the  lesson-hour,  placed  three  objects, 
a  pen-holder,  a  pocket-knife,  and  a  piece  of  chalk,  so 
near  the  edge  of  the  teacher's  desk  that  they  could  be 
plainly  seen  by  every  pupil  in  the  room.  During  the 
brief  recess  that  followed  the  first  lesson-hour,  he 
removed  these  objects,  and  after  the  pupils  had  re- 
[61] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

assembled  asked  them  what  they  had  seen  on  the  desk 
the  previous  hour.  Hardly  one  of  them,  it  turned 
out,  had  noticed  the  objects  at  all.  Next  day,  after 
leaving  the  desk  entirely  bare  the  -first  hour,  he  put 
the  same  question  to  them  at  the  beginning  of  the 
second  hour.  Now  26  per  cent,  of  the  pupils  asserted 
that  they  had  seen  the  pocket-knife,  57  per  cent,  the 
chalk,  and  63  per  cent,  the  pen-holder. 

In  France,  the  headmaster  of  a  school,  following 
the  instructions  of  the  famous  psychologist,  Alfred 
Binet,  announced  to  a  class  of  eighty-six  boys  that  he 
intended  to  test  their  memory  of  the  length  of  lines. 
A  line  two  inches  long,  ruled  on  white  cardboard,  was 
shown  to  each  boy,  who,  after  looking  at  it,  had  to 
draw  it  as  accurately  as  he  could  on  a  sheet  of  paper. 
The  boys  were  then  told  that  they  would  be  asked  to 
draw  another  line  a  little  longer  than  the  first,  and 
were  accordingly  given  a  second  line  to  copy.  In 
reality  it  was  shorter  than  the  first,  being  only  an 
inch  and  three  quarters  long.  Yet  out  of  the  entire 
class  only  nine  resisted  the  suggestion  and  believed 
[62] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

their  eyes  and  their  memories  rather  than  the  master's 
statement.  The  other  seventy-seven  boys  —  some  of 
whom  were  fourteen  years  old  —  made  the  second  line 
longer  than  the  firs.t. 

A  variation  of  the  same  experiment  was  made  on 
another  class,  to  whom  a  series  of  thirty-six  lines  was 
shown,  one  after  the  other.  Of  these  lines  the  first 
five  progressively  increased  in  length,  while  the  re- 
mainder were  uniformly  long.  Not  one  of  the  forty- 
two  boys  who  were  asked  to  copy  them  reached  the 
maximum  length  at  the  fifth  line,  while  nine  indus- 
triously continued  making  their  lines  longer  up  to  the 
last  line  shown  them.  The  first  five  lines,  that  is  to 
say,  had  acted  as  a  suggestion  having  sufficient  force 
to  induce  in  them,  despite  the  evidence  of  their  eyes, 
a  belief  that  the  entire  series  similarly  increased  in 
length. 

Much  the  same  thing,  as  everyday  observation 
shows,  occurs  in  the  case  of  full-grown  men  and 
women.  The  judicious  have  long  grieved  at  the  gulli- 
bility with  which  people  who  are  by  no  means  illiterate 
[63] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

and  uneducated  accept  and  act  upon  the  most  pre- 
posterous suggestions  of  the  fraudulent  advertiser, 
from  the  patent-medicine  man  to  the  swindling  pro- 
moter. Political  mountebanks  and  charlatans  daily 
ride  into  power  through  nothing  else  than  skilfully 
working  on  the  suggestibility  of  the  voters.  So,  too, 
religious  cults,  no  matter  how  fantastic,  gain  a  foot- 
hold and  a  following.  "  I  am  Elijah,"  some  one  an- 
nounces, and  straightway  a  multitude  proclaim  him 
Elijah.  "  There  is  no  such  thing  as  disease,"  says 
another,  and  thousands  take  up  the  cry,  accepting 
the  absurd  suggestion  with  as  much  unthinking 
readiness  as  was  shown  by  the  French  boys  who, 
although  they  had  concrete  evidence  to  the  contrary, 
accepted  their  master's  deceptive  statements. 

What  these,  and  even  more  glaring  evidences  of 
undue  suggestibility,  really  mean  is  that  there  is 
something  wrong  with  our  educational  methods. 
Appreciating  this,  there  is  an  increasing  tendency  to 
criticise  and  condemn  the  school  system.  "  Our 
common  schools,"  exclaims  President  Emeritus 
[64] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

Charles  W.  Eliot,  of  Harvard  University,  "  have 
failed  signally  to  cultivate  general  intelligence,  as  is 
evinced  by  the  failure  to  deal  adequately  with  the 
liquor  problem,  by  the  prevalence  of  gambling^  of 
strikes  accompanied  by  violence,  and  by  the  persist- 
ency of  the  spoils  system."  From  the  standpoint 
also  of  mere  efficiency  much  complaint  is  made.  The 
charge  is  even  heard  that  the  public  schools  of  to-day 
make  for  mediocrity,  and  that  instead  of  fostering 
they  in  reality  retard  the  development  of  a  child's 
intellect.  In  the  words  of  a  recent  critic  (The  Psy- 
chological Clinic,  vol.  iv.,  p.  141)  : 

"  The  public  school  attempts  the  impossible  feat 
of  making  a  course  for  all  children,  irrespective  of 
strength,  mentality,  inheritance,  or  home  environ- 
ment —  whether  they  are  to  be  lawyers  or  black- 
smiths, artisans  or  mathematicians.  Plainly,  this 
course  cannot  suit  all  children.  Is  it,  then,  adapted 
to  the  bright  child?  Doctor  Witmer,  Professor  of 
Psychology  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  says, 
*  The  public  schools  are  not  giving  the  bright  child  a 
[65] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

square  deal.  He  is  marking  time,  waiting  for  the 
lame  duck  to  catch  up.'  Is  the  course  intended  to  fit 
the  dull  pupil?  Evidently  not,  in  view  of  the  tears 
shed  by  the  many  who,  despite  their  efforts,  fail  to 
keep  up  to  grade. 

"  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  course  has  been 
designed  for  the  average  pupil.  The  *  average ' 
pupil  does  not  exist.  You  cannot  strike  an  average 
between  a  goose  and  an  eagle,  nor  can  you  add  a  dull 
pupil  and  a  bright  pupil  together  and  get  anything. 
A  course  of  study  based  on  this  idea  is  not  fitted  to 
any  one.  Instead,  then,  of  a  school  to  fit  the  pupil, 
the  pupil  is  made  to  fit  the  school.  The  lock-step 
masquerades  under  the  name  of  discipline.  The  rigid 
curriculum  tends  with  each  passing  year  to  produce 
more  and  more  the  type  of  factory  employes,  obliter- 
ating individuality  and  forcing  all  into  the  same 
mould." 

That  there  is  a  large  measure  of  truth  in  these 
criticisms  cannot  be  denied,  and  our  school  authorities 
to-day  are  bestirring  themselves  to  effect  sundry 
[66] 


SUGGESTION    IN    EDUCATION 

greatly  needed  reforms.  But  is  it  wholly  fair  to  cast 
on  the  schools  the  blame  for  human  irrationalities  of 
thought  and  conduct?  Nay,  is  it  not  possible,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  habits  are  formed  so  early  in 
life,  that  the  real  trouble  may  be  that  the  material 
with  which  the  schools  have  to  work  —  the  children 
of  the  nation  —  is  more  or  less  unworkable  by  the 
time  it  gets  to  the  schools?  Is  it  not  reasonable  to 
assume  that  neglect  of  proper  instruction  in  the  pre- 
school period  has  permitted  the  formation  of  faulty 
and  well-nigh  unchangeable  modes  of  thinking  and 
feeling? 

"  But,"  I  hear  a  puzzled  parent  protest,  "  do  you 
mean  that  the  formal  education  of  the  child  should  be 
begun  before  he  has  reached  school  age  ?  Would  you 
have  us  lay  on  the  tender  mind  the  burden  of  actual 
study?" 

I  mean  precisely  that.     Not  only  do  I  believe  that 

the  postponement   of  formal  education  to  "  school 

age  "  is  a  serious  pedagogical  error,  but  I  also  believe 

that  "  actual  study,"  properly  directed,  would  by  no 

[67] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

means  prove  such  a  "  burden  "  on  the  mind  of  the 
child  as  most  people  take  for  granted. 

I  am  willing  to  go  further  than  this,  and  to  con- 
tend, for  reasons  which  I  shall  endeavour  to  make 
clear,  that  if  the  formal  education  of  children  were 
begun  earlier  than  is  the  rule  at  present,  and  if  it  were 
carried  out  with  the  supplementary  aid  of  education 
through  a  really  good  example  and  a  really  well  ar- 
ranged environment,  our  boys  and  girls  would  develop 
not  only  into  morally  superior  men  and  women,  but 
also  into  men  and  women  of  mental  attainments  fairly 
comparable  with  those  to-day  displayed  by  the  com- 
parative few  acclaimed  as  men  and  women  of 
"  genius." 


[68] 


THE  SECRET  OF  GENIUS 


Ill 

THE  SECRET  OF  GENIUS 


1 


^HE  theory  of  genius  which  it  is  my  purpose 
to  present  and  defend  has  little  in  com- 
mon with  the  views  held  by  most  students 
of  this  world-old  problem.  Especially  does  it  differ 
from  the  well-known  and  at  present  dominant  doc- 
trine of  the  Moreau-Lombroso-Hagen  school  of  in- 
vestigators, by  whom  the  man  of  genius  is  regarded  as 
an  aberrant,  even  degenerate,  type  of  humanity, 
closely  allied  to  the  insane,  and  hence  by  implication 
deserving  to  be  repressed  rather  than  encouraged. 
Nor  am  I  at  one  with  those  who,  justly  protesting 
against  the  degeneracy  theory,  themselves  contend 
that  genius  is  an  anomaly  in  the  scheme  of  Nature, 
and  that  the  man  of  genius,  biologically  speaking,  is 
a  "  variation  "  dependent  on  unknown,  perhaps  un- 
knowable, laws  of  heredity. 
[71] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

On  the  contrary,  following  the  lead  of  the  late 
Frederic  W.  H.  Myers  —  the  first,  in  my  opinion,  to 
glimpse  the  true  significance  and  fundamental  charac- 
teristics of  genius  —  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  that 
in  the  man  of  genius  there  is,  at  bottom,  no  real  de- 
parture from  normality,  and  that  he  differs  from  the 
"  average  man  "  only  in  being  the  fortunate  possessor 
of  a  power  for  utilising  more  freely  than  other  men 
faculties  common  to  all.  More  than  this,  going  be- 
yond Myers,  I  venture  to  affirm  that  genius  is  to  an 
appreciable  extent  susceptible  of  cultivation,  so  as 
to  become  a  far  more  frequent  phenomenon  than  it  is 
to-day. 

In  other  words,  I  maintain  that  God,  in  giving  to 
the  world  its  Dantes,  Newtons,  and  Emersons,  has 
not  intended  them  as  mere  objects  of  admiration  and 
bewilderment,  but  as  indications  of  possibilities  open 
to  the  generalty  of  mankind. 

Such  a  view,  it  may  at  once  be  conceded,  could  not 
reasonably  have  been  advanced  many  years  ago.  It 
rests  mainly  on  facts  then  unknown  or  misunderstood, 
[73] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

and  even  now  little  appreciated  outside  of  a  narrow 
circle  of  scientific  investigators.  Foremost  in  im- 
portance is  the  discovery  that,  in  addition  to  the 
ordinary  realm  of  conscious  thought,  there  exists  in 
all  of  us  a  second  realm  —  that  of  the  so-called  sub- 
conscious —  in  which,  quite  without  any  will-directed 
effort  of  our  own,  the  most  varied  mental  processes 
are  carried  on. 

The  subconscious,  in  fact,  is  a  kind  of  vast  store- 
house, wherein  are  preserved,  seemingly  without  time 
limit  and  in  the  most  perfect  detail,  memory-images 
of  everything  we  have  seen,  heard,  or  otherwise  ex- 
perienced through  our  sense-organs.  It  is  also  a  kind 
of  workshop  for  the  facile  manipulation  of  ideas,  in- 
cluding even  the  elaboration  of  complicated  trains  of 
thought.  Manifestly,  the  more  freely  and  habitually 
one  can  draw  on  its  resources,  the  more  one  ought  to 
be  able  to  accomplish  with  regard  to  any  set  task  or 
chosen  field  of  work.  And  in  this,  I  am  persuaded, 
we  have  the  clue  to  the  true  explanation  of  the  bril- 
liant achievements  of  the  man  of  genius. 
[73] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

He  does  what  he  does  so  well,  not  because  he  is  of 
an  abnormal  type  of  mentality,  as  the  Lombrosians 
ask  us  to  believe,  nor  yet  because  he  is  born  with  gifts 
transcending  those  of  other  men,  but  simply  because 
he  Kas  found  a  way  more  readily,  more  frequently, 
and  more  profitably  than  others  to  avail  himself  of 
the  subconscious  powers  that  are  the  common  heri- 
tage of  the  race.  Or,  to  put  it  more  elaborately  in 
the  words  of  Frederic  Myers: 

"  I  would  suggest  that  genius  —  if  that  vaguely 
used  word  is  to  receive  anything  like  a  psychological 
definition  —  should  be  regarded  as  a  power  of  utilis- 
ing a  wider  range  than  other  men  can  utilise  of 
faculties  in  some  degree  innate  in  all  —  a  power  of 
appropriating  the  results  of  subliminal  mentation  to 
subserve  the  supraliminal  stream  of  thought ;  so  that 
an  '  inspiration  of  genius  '  will  be,  in  truth,  a  sub- 
liminal uprush,  an  emergence  into  the  current  of  ideas 
which  the  man  is  consciously  manipulating  of  other 
ideas  which  he  has  not  consciously  originated,  but 
which  have  shaped  themselves  beyond  his  will  in  pro- 
[74] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

founder  regions  of  his  being.  I  would  urge  that  here 
there  is  no  real  departure  from  normality ;  no  abnor- 
mality, at  least  in  the  sense  of  degeneration ;  but, 
rather,  a  fulfilment  of  the  true  norm  of  man." 

That  the  inspirations  of  genius  are  really  nothing 
more  than  spontaneous  upsurgings  from  the  depths 
of  the  subconscious,  is  indeed  demonstrable  from  the 
recorded  statements  of  men  of  genius  themselves.  To 
the  modern  psychologist  one  of  the  most  impressive 
proofs  of  the  actuality  of  subconscious  mental  proc- 
esses, is  the  occasional  solution  in  dreams  of  prob- 
lems that  have  long  baffled  the  waking  consciousness. 
In  this  way  abstruse  mathematical  problems  have 
sometimes  been  worked  out  after  all  hope  of  solving 
them  had  been  abandoned;  and  troublesome  clerical 
errors,  the  perpetual  dread  of  book-keepers,  have 
been  cleared  away  during  sleep,  as  in  the  following 
typical  instance,  reported  by  a  successful  business 
man  to  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research: 

"  I  had  been  bothered  since  September  with  an 
error  in  my  cash  account  for  that  month,  and,  despite 
[75] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

many  hours'  examination,  it  defied  all  my  efforts,  and 
I  had  almost  given  it  up  as  a  hopeless  case.  It  had 
been  the  subject  of  my  waking  thoughts  for  many 
nights,  and  had  occupied  a  large  portion  of  my  leisure 
hours.  Matters  remained  thus  unsettled  until  De- 
cember 11.  On  this  night  I  had  not,  to  my  knowl- 
edge, once  thought  of  the  subject,  but  I  had  not  been 
long  in  bed,  and  asleep,  when  my  brain  was  as  busy 
with  the  books  as  if  I  had  been  at  my  desk.  The 
cash-book,  banker's  pass-book,  etc.,  appeared  before 
me,  and  without  any  apparent  trouble  I  almost  im- 
mediately discovered  the  cause  of  the  mistake,  which 
had  arisen  out  of  a  complicated  cross-entry. 

"  I  perfectly  recollect  having  taken  a  slip  of  paper 
in  my  dream  and  making  such  a  memorandum  as 
would  enable  me  to  correct  the  error  at  some  leisure 
time ;  having  done  this,  the  whole  of  the  circumstances 
had  passed  from  my  mind.  When  I  awoke  in  the 
morning  I  had  not  the  slightest  recollection  of  my 
dream,  nor  did  it  once  occur  to  me  during  the  day, 
although  I  had  the  very  books  before  me  on  which  I 
[76] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

had  apparently  been  engaged  in  ray  sleep.  When  I 
returned  home  in  the  afternoon,  as  I  did  early  for  the 
purpose  of  dressing,  and  proceeded  to  shave,  I  took 
up  a  piece  of  paper  from  my  dressing-table  to  wipe 
my  razor,  and  you  may  imagine  my  surprise  at  find- 
ing thereon  the  very  memorandum  I  fancied  had  been 
made  during  the  night. 

"  The  effect  on  me  was  such  that  I  returned  to  our 
office  and  turned  to  the  cash-book,  when  I  found  that 
I  had  really,  when  asleep,  detected  the  error  which  I 
could  not  detect  in  my  waking  hours,  and  had  actu- 
ally jotted  it  down  at  the  time." 

The  modern  psychological  explanation  of  all  this 
would  be  that  in  his  many  hours  of  searching  through 
the  books  he  had,  though  without  being  in  the  least 
aware  of  it,  gradually  brought  together  the  data  nec- 
essary to  the  solution  of  his  problem ;  and  that  in  this 
case  this  happened  to  be  first  definitely  formulated  in 
his  mind  while  he  slept,  thus  giving  rise  to  the  dream 
that  caused  him  such  astonishment.  Or  he  might 
from  the  outset  have  subconsciously  been  aware  of 
[77] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  cause  of  his  error,  but  without  being  able  to 
profit  from  the  knowledge  until  a  favouring  condition 
in  sleep  permitted  its  emergence  above  the  threshold 
of  his  consciousness. 

Now,  suppose  that  instead  of  being  a  business  man 
he  had  been  a  novelist,  artist,  or  musician,  and  had 
been  preoccupied  with  some  special  or  general  prob- 
lem peculiar  to  his  art.  If  in  that  event  he  had  had 
a  dream  in  which  was  presented  to  his  sleeping  con- 
sciousness a  plot  or  subject  or  theme,  which,  being 
afterward  given  permanent  form  on  paper  or  canvas, 
proved  to  have  the  qualities  of  a  "  work  of  genius," 
would  it  not  be  logical  to  infer  that  precisely  the 
same  mental  processes  were  operant  in  the  second 
instance  as  in  the  first,  the  only  difference  being  in  the 
character  of  the  product?  This  is  what,  from  their 
own  statement,  has  happened  to  not  a  few  men  of  high 
achievement. 

Coleridge's  poem  "  Kubla  Khan "  was  a  dream 
composition.  So  was  the  sonata  by  which  the  com- 
poser Tartini  is  best  known,  and  to  which  he  appro- 
[78] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

priately  gave  the  name  of  "  The  Devil's  Sonata,"  in 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  he  owed  it  to  a  dream  of 
selling  his  soul  to  the  devil,  and  being  rewarded  by 
hearing  the  latter  play  on  a  violin  the  music  out  of 
which  grew  what  Tartini  himself  regarded  as  his  best 
piece  of  work.  Benjamin  Franklin  was  another  man 

of  genius  who  gained  something  from  his  dreams,  as 

i 
was  Condillac.     But  the  most  striking  illustration  is 

afforded  by  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  whose  marvellous 
"  Doctor  Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde  "  was  only  one  of 
several  novels  and  stories  that  he  conceived  in  dreams. 
Stevenson,  it  is  worth  adding,  in  his  delightful 
"  Chapter  on  Dreams,"  frankly  recognises  and  ac- 
knowledges the  debt  he  owed  to  his  subconsciousness, 
which,  with  characteristic  felicity  and  whimsicality, 
he  personified  as  "  Brownies  "  and  "  little  people." 

"  This  dreamer,  like  many  other  persons,"  is  the 
way  he  puts  it,  "  has  encountered  some  trifling  vicissi- 
tudes of  fortune.  When  the  bank  begins  to  send 
letters  and  the  butcher  to  linger  at  the  back  gate,  he 
sets  to  belabouring  his  brains  after  a  story,  for  that 
[79] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

is  his  readiest  bread-winner ;  and,  behold !  at  once  the 
little  people  begin  to  bestir  themselves  in  the  same 
quest,  and  labour  all  night  long,  and  all  night  long  set 
before  him  truncheons  of  tales  upon  their  lighted 
theatre.  No  fear  of  his  being  frightened  now ;  the 
flying  heart  and  the  frozen  scalp  are  things  bygone ; 
applause,  growing  applause,  growing  interest,  grow- 
ing exultation  in  his  own  cleverness  —  for  he  takes 
all  the  credit  —  and  at  last  a  jubilant  leap  to  wake- 
fulness,  with  the  cry  '  I  have  it ;  that'll  do ! '  upon  his 
lips  —  with  such  and  similar  emotions  he  sits  at  these 
nocturnal  dramas ;  with  such  outbreaks,  like  Cassius 
in  the  play,  he  scatters  the  performance  in  the 
midst. 

"  Often  enough  the  waking  is  a  disappointment. 
He  has  been  too  deep  asleep,  as  I  explain  the  thing ; 
drowsiness  has  gained  his  little  people ;  they  have  gone 
stumbling  and  maundering  through  their  parts ;  and 
the  play,  to  the  wakened  mind,  is  seen  to  be  a  tissue 
of  absurdities.  And  yet,  how  often  have  these  sleep- 
less Brownies  done  him  honest  service,  and  given  him, 
[80] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

as  he  sat  idly  taking  his  pleasure  in  the  boxes,  better 
tales  than  he  could  fashion  for  himself. 

"  The  more  I  think  of  it,"  Stevenson  goes  on,  "  the 
more  I  am  moved  to  press  upon  the  world  my  ques- 
tion, *  Who  are  the  little  people  ?  '  They  are  near 
connections  of  the  dreamer's,  beyond  doubt;  they 
share  in  his  training;  they  have  plainly  learned,  like 
him,  to  build  the  scheme  of  a  considerable  story,  and 
to  arrange  emotion  in  progressive  order.  Only,  I 
think  they  have  more  talent ;  and  one  thing  is  beyond 
doubt  —  they  can  tell  him  a  story  piece  by  piece,  like 
a  serial,  and  keep  him  the  while  in  ignorance  of  where 
they  aim. 

"  That  part  of  my  work  which  is  done  while  I  am 
sleeping  is  the  Brownies'  part,  beyond  contention; 
but  that  which  is  done  when  I  am  up  and  about  is  by 
no  means  necessarily  mine,  since  all  goes  to  show  that 
the  Brownies  have  a  hand  in  it  even  then." 

Than  these  exquisite  paragraphs,  it  would  be  hard 
to  find  —  and  I  have  quoted  them  for  that  reason  — 
anything  more  graphically  descriptive  of  the  mechan- 
[81] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

ism  which  I  am  convinced  is  always  operant  in  the 
production  of  works  of  genius.  Asleep  or  awake,  it  is 
from  the  resources  of  the  subconscious  region  of  their 
minds  that  men  of  genius  gain  the  "  inspirations  " 
that  delight,  benefit,  or  amaze  posterity. 

Mostly,  of  course,  the  subconscious  upsurgings 
come  to  them  when  they  are  awake,  sometimes  in 
momentary  gleams  of  insight,  sometimes  continuing 
through  comparatively  long  periods,  when  they  write, 
compose,  or  develop  valuable  discoveries  without  con- 
scious effort.  In  fact,  there  even  is  one  type  of 
genius  —  although  by  no  means  the  most  useful  —  in 
which,  within  a  certain  limited  field,  the  subconscious 
is  perpetually  in  evidence,  and  perpetually  respon- 
sive to  the  demands  of  the  upper  consciousness.  I  re- 
fer to  the  so-called  "  lightning  calculators,"  those 
prodigies  whose  mathematical  feats,  performed  with- 
out the  aid  of  pencil  and  paper,  have  been  a  source  of 
unending  surprise  to  the  world,  and  have  at  times 
been  so  remarkable  as  to  be  well-nigh  incredible. 

Thus,  Zerah  Colburn,  an  American  lightning  calcu- 
[82] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

lator,  when  only  six  years  old,  unable  to  read,  and 
ignorant  of  the  name  and  value  of  any  numeral  set 
down  on  paper,  is  known  to  have  stated  correctly  the 
number  of  seconds  in  a  period  as  long  as  two  thousand 
years,  and  to  have  returned  the  correct  answer 
(9,139,200)  to  the  question,  "  Supposing  I  have  a 
corn-field,  in  which  are  7  acres,  having  17  rows  to 
each  acre,  64  hills  to  each  row,  8  ears  on  a  hill,  and 
150  kernels  on  the  ear,  how  many  kernels  in  the  corn- 
field? " 

A  little  later,  having  been  taken  by  his  father  to 
England,  it  is  recorded  that,  in  the  presence  of  a 
number  of  witnesses : 

"  He  undertook  and  succeeded  in  raising  the  num- 
ber 8  to  the  sixteenth  power,  281,474,976,780,656. 
He  was  then  tried  as  to  other  numbers,  consisting  of 
one  figure,  all  of  which  he  raised  as  high  as  the  tenth 
power,  with  so  much  facility  that  the  person  ap- 
pointed to  take  down  the  results  was  obliged  to  enjoin 
him  not  to  be  too  rapid.  With  respect  to  numbers 
of  two  figures,  he  would  raise  some  of  them  to  the 
[83] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

sixth,  seventh,  and  eighth  power,  but  not  always  with 
equal  facility ;  for  the  larger  the  products  became  the 
more  difficult  he  found  it  to  proceed.  He  was  asked 
the  square  root  of  106,929,  and  before  the  number 
could  be  written  down  he  immediately  answered  327. 
He  was  then  requested  to  name  the  cube  root  of  268,- 
336,125,  and  with  equal  facility  and  promptness  he 
replied  645." 

Henri  Mondeux,  Vito  Mangiamele,  Jacques  Inaudi, 
Zacharias  Dase,  Jedediah  Buxton,  Truman  Safford, 
Andre  Ampere,  Karl  Gauss,  George  Bidder  and  his 
son  of  the  same  name,  were  other  world  famous  calcu- 
lators. From  some  of  them  direct  evidence  as  to  the 
subconscious  character  of  their  calculations  has  been 
forthcoming.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  in  this 
group,  the  elder  Bidder,  in  a  paper  contributed  to  a 
scientific  journal,  declared,  "Whenever  I  feel  called 
upon  to  make  use  of  the  stores  of  my  mind,  they  seem 
to  rise  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning."  In  a  later 
issue  of  the  same  journal  it  is  asserted  regarding  him : 

"  He  had  an  almost  miraculous  power  of  seeing,  as 
[84] 


THE    SECRET   OF   GENIUS 

it  were,  intuitively,  what  factors  would  divide  any 
large  number,  not  a  prime.  Thus,  if  he  were  given 
the  number  17,861,  he  would  instantly  remark  that 
it  was  327  X  53.  He  could  not,  he  said,  explain  how 
he  did  this ;  it  seemed  a  natural  instinct  with  him." 

Another  expert  calculator,  an  English  civil  engi- 
neer named  Blyth,  says  in  a  letter: 

"  I  am  conscious  of  an  intuitive  recognition  of  the 
relations  of  figures.  For  instance,  in  reading  state- 
ments of  figures  in  newspapers,  which  are  often  egre- 
giously  wrong,  it  seems  to  come  to  me  intuitively  that 
something  is  wrong,  and  when  that  occurs  I  am  usu- 
ally right." 

In  the  case  of  at  least  one  lightning  calculator 
there  is  proof  positive  of  the  concurrent  operation  of 
two  trains  of  thought,  the  one  conscious,  the  other 
subconscious.  This  is  Jedediah  Buxton,  who  "  would 
talk  freely  while  doing  his  questions,  that  being  no 
molestation  or  hindrance  to  him." 

Moreover,  prodigious  memory  power  is  nearly 
always  characteristic  of  the  lightning  calculator. 
[85] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

This  of  itself  is  evidence  of  unusual  access  to  the  sub- 
conscious, since  it  is  in  the  subconscious  that  memories 
are  stored.  Most  impressive  of  all,  however,  is  the 
rapid,  almost  instantaneous  emergence  of  the  answers 
to  the  problems  propounded  by  those  testing  the 
calculator's  powers.  It  is  as  though  the  mere  putting 
of  the  problem,  and  the  mere  desire  to  solve  it,  were 
enough  to  set  in  motion  a  "  thinking  machine  "  that 
automatically  brought  about  the  desired  result.  It 
is  significant  that  in  most  cases,  as  in  Bidder's,  the 
calculators  themselves  are  unable  to  give  any  satis- 
factory account  of  the  methods  they  employ,  and 
sometimes  frankly  admit  that  they  "  do  not  know  how 
the  answers  come." 

Now,  this  sudden  irruption  of  ideas,  this  dazzling 
solution  of  problems,  is  characteristic  not  only  of 
calculating  prodigies,  but  also  of  all  men  of  genius. 
They  may  not  have  —  in  truth,  they  have  compara- 
tively seldom  —  such  a  spectacular  resort  to  the  sub- 
conscious ;  but  they  assuredly  have  it  in  an  astonish- 
ing measure,  and  to  better  purpose.  Precisely  as 
[86] 


THE    SECRET    OF   GENIUS 

we  find  the  answers  to  mathematical  puzzles  rising 
spontaneously  in  the  minds  of  ready  reckoners,  so, 
time  and  again,  do  we  find  great  thoughts,  amounting 
it  may  be  to  epoch-making  conceptions,  forcing  them- 
selves upon  men  of  genius,  frequently  at  moments 
when  they  are  consciously  thinking  of  some  other 
matter,  or  are  not  consciously  exercising  their  minds 
at  all.  And  again  we  have  only  to  go  to  the  pub- 
lished testimony  of  men  of  genius  themselves  to  obtain 
a  strong  body  of  evidence  bearing  out  this  statement. 
Many  a  poet  of  the  first  order,  puzzling  over  the 
state  of  his  mind  during  his  creative  moments,  has 
declared  that  his  works  were  composed  as  in  a  dream, 
the  main  ideas,  sometimes  even  the  phrases  used,  shap- 
ing themselves  of  their  own  accord  in  his  conscious- 
ness. "  Often  it  happened  to  me,"  says  Goethe, "  that 
I  would  repeat  a  song  to  myself  and  then  be  unable  to 
recollect  it ;  that  sometimes  I  would  run  to  my  desk, 
and,  without  taking  time  to  lay  my  paper  straight, 
would,  without  stirring  from  my  place,  write  out  the 
poem  from  beginning  to  end,  slopingly.  For  the 
[87] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

same  reason  I  always  preferred  to  write  with  a  pencil, 
on  account  of  its  marking  so  readily.  On  several 
occasions,  indeed,  the  scratching  and  spluttering  of 
my  pen  awoke  me  from  my  somnambulistic  poetising 
and  distracted  me  so  that  it  suffocated  a  little  product 
in  its  birth."  (Hirsch's  "  Genius  and  Degenera- 
tion," p.  33.) 

Elsewhere  Goethe  specifically  states  that  his 
"  Werther  "  was  written  "  somewhat  unconsciously, 
like  a  sleepwalker."  And,  according  to  Vischer,  the 
poet  Schiller,  Goethe's  almost  equally  great  contem- 
porary, complained  that  whenever  he  was  consciously 
at  work  creating  and  constructing,  his  imagination 
was  hampered  and  did  not  perform  "  with  the  same 
freedom  as  it  had  done  when  nobody  was  looking  over 
its  shoulder." 

"  It  is  not  I  who  think,"  confesses  Lamartine,  "  but 
my  ideas  which  think  for  me."  Dante  had  much  the 
same  feeling,  as  recorded  in  his  famous  lines,  "  I  am 
so  constituted  that  when  love  inspires  me,  I  attend ; 
and  according  as  it  speaks  in  me,  I  express  myself." 
[88] 


THE    SECRET    OF   GENIUS 

Voltaire,  who  wrote  to  Diderot  that  "  in  the  works 
of  genius  instinct  is  everything,"  on  seeing  one  of  his 
own  tragedies  performed,  exclaimed,  "  Was  it  really 
I  who  wrote  that  ?  " 

"  My  conceptions,"  says  Remy  de  Gourmont,  "  rise 
into  the  field  of  consciousness  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
or  the  flight  of  a  bird." 

"  One  does  not  work,  one  listens ;  it  is  as  though 
another  were  speaking  into  one's  ear,"  writes  De 
Musset.  Exactly  similar  is  the  statement  of  the  com- 
poser, Hoffman: 

"  When  I  compose,  I  sit  down  to  the  piano,  shut  my 
eyes,  and  play  what  I  hear." 

From  other  great  musicians  comes  equally  emphatic 
testimony  to  the  part  played  by  the  subconscious  in 
the  creation  of  their  works.  Mozart  frankly  avowed 
that  his  compositions  came  "  involuntarily,  like 
dreams."  Among  eminent  composers  of  to-day 
Saint-Saens  has  only  to  listen,  like  Socrates,  to  his 
Daemon ;  and  Vincent  d'Indy,  writing  to  Dr.  Paul 
Chabaneix  (to  whose  "  Le  Subconsciente  chez  les 
[89] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

Artistes,  les  Savants,  et  les  Ecrivains  "  I  am  indebted 
for  most  of  these  French  instances)  relates  that  he 
"  often  has,  on  waking,  a  fugitive  glimpse  of  a  musi- 
cal effect  which  —  like  the  memory  of  a  dream  — 
needs  a  strong  immediate  concentration  of  mind  to 
keep  it  from  vanishing." 

The  situation  is  the  same,  in  whatever  field  genius 
finds  expression.  Napoleon,  by  many  considered  the 
greatest  military  genius  in  the  history  of  mankind, 
believed  from  his  own  experience  that  the  fate  of 
battles  usually  turned  not  so  much  on  conscious  plan- 
ning and  manoeuvring  as  on  tactics  dictated  by 
"  latent  thoughts "  arising  suddenly  in  the  mind. 
"  The  decisive  moment  approached ;  the  spark  burst 
forth,  and  one  was  victorious."  In  like  manner  there 
frequently  has  come  to  scientists  and  inventors,  with 
the  unexpectedness  of  lightning  out  of  a  clear  sky, 
the  discovery  of  natural  laws  or  mechanical  principles 
of  which  they  previously  had  no  conscious  knowledge 
whatever. 

Everybody  has  heard  the  story  of  Newton,  the 
[90] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

falling  apple,  and  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravita- 
tion ;  and  of  Galileo's  invention  of  the  pendulum,  born 
of  the  thoughts  springing  up  in  his  mind  while  idly 
watching  the  oscillations  of  the  great  bronze  lamp 
swinging  from  the  roof  of  Pisa  Cathedral.  Not  so 
well  known,  but  particularly  impressive  because  of 
its  revelation  of  the  manner  in  which  the  desultory 
development  of  a  train  of  thought  in  the  mind  of  a 
man  of  genius  may  lead  to  a  subconscious  upsurging 
of  the  highest  value,  is  Alfred  Russel  Wallace's  own 
account  of  his  epoch-making  discovery  of  the  scien- 
tific doctrine  of  the  origin  of  species  —  a  discovery 
achieved  by  him,  in  the  far-off  Malay  Archipelago, 
with  no  knowledge  that  the  same  doctrine  had  even 
then  been  worked  out,  though  not  as  yet  made  public, 
by  Charles  Darwin. 

"  At  the  time  in  question,"  Wallace  relates,  in  his 
"  My  Life,"  "  I  was  suffering  from  a  sharp  attack  of 
intermittent  fever,  and  every  day  during  the  cold  and 
succeeding  hot  fits  had  to  lie  down  for  several  hours, 
during  which  time  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  think 
[91] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

over  any  subjects  then  particularly  interesting  me. 
One  day  something  brought  to  my  mind  Malthus's 
*  Principle  of  Population,'  which  I  had  read  about 
twelve  years  before.  I  thought  of  his  clear  exposi- 
tion of  the  *  positive  checks  to  increase  ' —  disease, 
accidents,  war,  and  famine  —  which  keep  down  the 
population  of  savage  races  to  so  much  lower  an 
average  than  that  of  more  civilised  peoples.  It  then 
occurred  to  me  that  these  causes,  or  their  equivalents, 
are  continually  acting  in  the  case  of  animals  also ; 
and  as  animals  usually  breed  much  more  rapidly  than 
does  mankind,  the  destruction  every  year  from  these 
causes  must  be  enormous  in  order  to  keep  down  the 
numbers  of  each  species,  since  they  evidently  do  not 
increase  regularly  from  year  to  year,  as  otherwise  the 
world  would  long  ago  have  been  densely  crowded 
with  those  that  breed  most  quickly. 

"  Vaguely  thinking  over  the  enormous  and  con- 
stant destruction  which  this  implied,  it  occurred  to 
me  to  ask  the  question,  Why  do  some  die  and  some 
live?     And  the  answer  was  clearly,  that  on  the  whole 
[92] 


the  best  fitted  live.  From  the  effects  of  disease  the 
most  healthy  escaped;  from  enemies,  the  strongest, 
the  swiftest,  or  the  most  cunning;  from  famine,  the 
best  hunters  or  those  with  the  best  digestion ;  and  so 
on.  Then  it  suddenly  flashed  on  me  that  this  self- 
acting  process  would  necessarily  improve  the  race, 
because  in  every  generation  the  inferior  would  inevi- 
tably be  killed  off  and  the  superior  would  remain  — 
that  is,  the  fittest  would  survive. 

"  At  once  I  seemed  to  see  the  whole  effect  of  this, 
that  when  changes  of  land  and  sea,  or  of  climate,  or  of 
food-supply,  or  of  enemies  occurred  —  and  we  know 
that  such  changes  have  always  been  taking  place  — 
and  considering  the  amount  of  individual  variation 
that  my  experience  as  a  collector  had  shown  me  to 
exist,  then  it  followed  that  all  the  changes  necessary 
for  the  adaptation  of  the  species  to  the  changing  con- 
ditions would  be  brought  about ;  and  as  great  changes 
in  the  environment  are  always  slow,  there  would  be 
ample  time  for  the  change  to  be  effected  by  the  sur- 
vival of  the  best  fitted  in  every  generation.  In  this 
[93] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

way  every  part  of  an  animal's  organisation  could  be 
modified  exactly  as  required,  and  in  the  very  process 
of  this  modification  the  unmodified  would  die  out,  and 
thus  the  definite  characters  and  the  clear  isolation 
of  each  new  species  would  be  explained.  The  more  I 
thought  about  it,  the  more  I  became  convinced  that  I 
had  at  last  found  the  long-sought-for  law  of  nature 
that  solved  the  problem  of  the  origin  of  species." 

This  passage,  with  its  significant  phrases,  "  Then  it 
suddenly  flashed  on  me,"  and  "  At  once  I  seemed  to 
see  the  whole  effect  of  this,"  makes  very  clear  the  sub- 
conscious element  in  the  achieving  of  the  momentous 
discovery.  It  also  emphasises  another  fact  indispen- 
sable to  a  complete  understanding  not  alone  of  Wal- 
lace's achievement  but  of  the  achievements  of  all  men 
of  genius :  the  fact  that  creative  upsurgings  from  the 
subconscious  would  be  valueless  —  would,  indeed,  be 
impossible  of  occurrence  —  in  any  but  a  mind  ren- 
dered by  conscious  study,  observation,  and  reflection, 
capable  of  appreciating  their  significance. 

The  subconscious,  let  me  recall,  is  a  kind  of  work- 
[94] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

shop  where  the  "  ego  "  rummages  among  the  memory- 
images  of  its  past  experiences  to  develop  trains  of 
thought  and  reach  definite  conclusions  with  a  mini- 
mum of  effort.  Obviously  the  results  of  its  rum- 
maging will  depend  on  the  material  it  finds  to  work 
with ;  in  proportion  as  this  is  rich  and  abundant,  the 
subconscious  upsurgings  will  be  "  worth  while." 
Obviously,  too,  both  the  richness  of  the  material  and 
the  character  and  value  of  the  subconscious  upsurg- 
ings will  ultimately  depend  on  the  character  of  the 
individual's  interests,  and  the  extent  to  which  these 
impel  him  to  conscious  study,  observation,  and  re- 
flection. 

Wherefore  it  is  that  all  men  of  genius  have  been 
great  workers.  Even  when,  as  has  been  observed  in 
certain  cases,  they  indulge  in  more  or  less  protracted 
periods  of  idleness,  they  later  make  amends  by  an 
unusual  industry;  and,  for  that  matter,  their  idle- 
ness often  is  more  seeming  than  real,  their  minds 
being  busied  all  the  while  with  some  baffling  problem. 
Ardent,  whole-souled  absorption  in  the  thing  he  has 
[95] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

set  himself  to  do  —  that,  unquestionably,  is  a  dis- 
tinguishing characteristic  of  the  man  of  genius.  It 
is  almost  as  if  by  instinct  he  labours  hard  to  provide 
his  subconsciousness  with  the  data  it  must  have  in 
order  to  afford  him,  by  way  of  recompense,  those 
flashes  of  insight,  those  moments  of  "  inspiration," 
that  mean  acknowledged  leadership  among  his  fellow- 
men. 

I  have  already  quoted  Robert  Louis  Stevenson's 
description  of  what  his  subconscious  did  for  him. 
Let  me  now  give  his  account  of  how  he  toiled  to  pro- 
vide his  subconscious  with  its  working  material. 
Never  was  there  a  man  who  strove  more  diligently 
and  deliberately  to  attain  success  as  an  author;  and 
this  even  while  he  was  a  student  in  college,  where  most 
of  those  who  knew  him  thought  that  his  chief  occupa- 
tion was  "  killing  time."  As  he  tells  us : 

"  All  through  my  boyhood  and  youth  I  was  known 

and  pointed  out  for  the  pattern  of  an  idler ;  and  yet  I 

was  always  busy  on  my  own  private  end,  which  was 

to  learn  to  write.     I  kept  always  two  books  in  my 

[96] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

pocket,  one  to  read,  one  to  write  in.  As  I  walked, 
my  mind  was  busy  fitting  what  I  saw  with  appropriate 
words.  When  I  sat  by  the  roadside,  I  would  either 
read,  or  a  pencil  and  a  penny  version  book  would  be 
in  my  hand,  to  write  down  the  features  of  the  scene  or 
commemorate  some  halting  stanzas. 

"  Thus  I  lived  with  words.  And  what  I  thus  wrote 
was  for  no  ulterior  use ;  it  was  written  consciously  for 
practice.  It  was  not  so  much  that  I  wished  to  be  an 
author  —  though  I  wished  that,  too  —  as  that  I  had 
vowed  that  I  would  learn  to  write.  That  was  a  pro- 
ficiency that  tempted  me ;  and  I  practised  to  acquire 
it,  as  men  learn  to  whittle,  in  a  wager  with  myself. 
...  I  worked  in  other  ways,  also ;  often  accompanied 
my  walks  with  dramatic  dialogues,  in  which  I  played 
many  parts ;  and  often  exercised  myself  in  writing 
down  conversations  from  memory. 

"  This  was  all  excellent,  no  doubt ;  so  were  the 
diaries  I  sometimes  tried  to  keep,  but  always  and  very 
speedily  discarded,  finding  them  a  school  of  postur- 
ing and  melancholy  self-deception.  And  yet  this  was 
[97] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

not  the  most  efficient  part  of  my  training.  Good 
though  it  was,  it  only  taught  me  —  so  far  as  I  have 
learned  them  at  all  —  the  lower  and  less  intellectual 
elements  of  the  art,  the  choice  of  the  essential  note 
and  the  right  word ;  things  that  to  a  happier  constitu- 
tion had  perhaps  come  by  nature.  And  regarded  as 
training  it  had  one  grave  defect;  for  it  set  me  no 
standard  of  achievement. 

"  So  that  there  was,  perhaps,  more  profit,  as  there 
was  certainly  more  effort,  in  my  secret  labours  at 
home.  Whenever  I  read  a  book  or  a  passage  that 
particularly  pleased  me,  in  which  a  thing  was  said  or 
an  effect  rendered  with  propriety,  in  which  there  was 
either  some  conspicuous  force  or  some  happy  distinc- 
tion in  the  style,  I  must  sit  down  at  once  and  set  my- 
self to  ape  that  quality.  I  was  unsuccessful,  and  I 
knew  it ;  and  tried  again,  and  was  again  unsuccessful, 
and  always  unsuccessful;  but  at  least  in  these  vain 
bouts  I  got  some  practice  in  rhythm,  in  harmony,  in 
construction,  and  the  co-ordination  of  parts." 

Balzac,  the  greatest  novelist  that  France  has  ever 
[98] 


THE    SECRET    OP   GENIUS 

produced,  similarly  exemplifies  the  laborious  indus- 
try of  the  man  of  genius  in  providing  his  subcon- 
sciousness  with  material  for  future  use,  and  training 
it  to  respond  more  fully  to  the  demands  of  the  upper 
consciousness.  It  was  Balzac's  habit  to  wander  for 
days  among  the  people,  inquiring  into  their  customs, 
manners,  motives,  and  ways  of  thinking ;  and  he  would 
travel  a  hundred  miles  to  get  the  data  for  a  few  lines 
of  description.  The  result,  when  his  genius  began  to 
show  itself,  after  a  long  and  painful  period  of  incuba- 
tion, was  the  creation  of  a  series  of  works  that  will  be 
read  and  reread  as  long  as  books  are  printed. 

Of  Dante,  Boccaccio  tells  us  that  "  taken  by  the 
sweetness  of  knowing  the  truth  of  the  things  con- 
cealed in  Heaven,  and  finding  no  other  pleasure  dearer 
to  him  in  life,  he  left  all  other  worldly  care  and  gave 
himself  to  this  alone ;  and,  that  no  part  of  philosophy 
might  remain  unseen  by  him,  he  plunged  with  acute 
intellect  into  the  deepest  recesses  of  theology,  and  so 
far  succeeded  in  his  design  that,  caring  nothing  for 
heat  or  cold,  or  watchings  or  fastings,  or  any  other 
[99] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

bodily  discomforts,  by  assiduous  study  he  came  to 
know  of  the  divine  essence  and  of  the  other  sepa- 
rate intelligences  that  the  human  intellect  can  com- 
prehend." 

Napoleon  is  known  to  have  occupied  his  mind 
almost  incessantly  with  problems  of  military  strategy. 
Even  at  the  opera  he  would  forget  the  music  in  wres- 
tling1 with  such  questions  as,  "  I  have  ten  thousand 
men  at  Strassburg,  fifteen  thousand  at  Magdeburg, 
twenty  thousand  at  Wiirzburg.  By  what  stages  must 
they  march  so  as  to.  reach  Ratisbon  on  three  suc- 
cessive days  ?  "  Mozart,  on  the  contrary,  thought, 
lived,  and  moved  in  an  atmosphere  of  music.  He 
could  not  so  much  as  go  for  a  walk  or  play  a  game 
of  billiards  without  humming  to  himself  over  and  over 
again  airs  that  he  was  striving  to  develop  to  his  satis- 
faction. 

"  Nobody,"  he  once  declared,  "  takes  so  much  pains 
in  the  study  of  composition  as  I.  You  could  not 
easily  name  a  famous  master  in  music  whom  I  have 
[100] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

not  industriously  studied,  often  going  through  his 
works  several  times." 

Schiller,  even  as  a  boy,  "  felt  that  without  dili- 
gence no  mastery  can  be  won."  Halley  once  asked 
Newton  how  he  had  made  his  marvellous  discoveries 
in  the  physical  realm.  "  By  always  thinking  about 
them,"  was  his  reply.  Thus  the  record  might  be  con- 
tinued down  to  the  Edisons  and  Bergsons  and  Debus- 
sys  of  to-day. 

Quite  evidently,  what  happens  is  that  the  perpet- 
ual concentration  of  attention  on  some  one  problem 
or  set  of  problems,  not  merely  deposits  in  the  sub- 
conscious an  exceptional  wealth  of  material,  but  also 
favours  the  emergence  of  the  results  of  its  manipula- 
tion of  that  material.  Just  as,  in  the  case  of  the 
ordinary  man,  it  is  only  when  he  is  intensely  inter- 
ested in,  say,  the  detection  of  an  error  in  book-keep- 
ing, that  he  is  likely  to  have  the  cause  of  that  error 
made  plain  to  him  by  a  sudden  "  happy  thought,"  or 
through  the  medium  of  a  dream. 
[101] 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

It  may,  then,  be  stated  as  a  well-established  fact 
that  intense  interest  plus  persistent  effort  is  the 
prime  essential  to  the  highest  success  in  any  sphere 
of  human  activity.  Of  importance,  also,  is  the  fact 
that,  as  a  general  thing,  the  "  set "  of  a  man's  mind, 
the  direction  which  his  interest  most  readily  takes,  is 
indicated  more  or  less  clearly  in  the  first  years  of  life. 
This  is  proved  not  only  by  the  early  lives  of  the 
world's  most  eminent  men  and  women,  but  also  by  the 
results  of  careful  statistical  investigations  into  the 
life  histories  of  "  average  "  people.  Especially  im- 
pressive are  the  findings  of  an  inquiry  carried  out  not 
long  ago  by  that  well-known  American  psychologist, 
Edward  L.  Thorndike,  and  reported  by  him  in  The 
Popular  Science  Monthly,  vol.  Ixxxi  (1912). 

Professor  Thorndike  submitted  to  one  hundred 
third  year  students  in  Columbia  College,  Barnard 
College,  and  Teachers'  College,  New  York,  a  list  of 
subjects  of  study,  including  mathematics,  history, 
literature,  science,  drawing,  and  such  hand-work  as 
carving,  carpentering,  gardening,  etc.  Each  stu- 
[102] 


THE    SECRET    OF   GENIUS 

dent  was  required  to  fill  in  a  tabular  blank  showing 
the  order  in  which  the  various  subjects  were  of  great- 
est interest  to  that  particular,  student:  (1)  during 
the  last  three  years  of  elementary  school  attendance, 
(2)  during  the  high  school  period,  and  (3)  at  the 
time  of  the  investigation.  Blanks  were  also  to  be 
filled  indicating  the  student's  judgment  as  to  his  or 
her  ability  in  each  of  the  respective  subjects  during 
the  period  covered  by  the  inquiry. 

From  the  statistics  thus  gathered  two  things  stood 
out  clearly.  No  fewer  than  60  per  cent,  of  the  stu- 
dents made  returns  showing  that  the  subjects  which 
appealed  to  them  most  strongly  in  their  college  work 
were  the  subjects  that  had  most  interested  them  in 
early  life;  and  an  even  closer  correspondence  (65 
per  cent.)  was  shown  between  intensity  of  interest 
and  intellectual  ability.  Professor  Thorndike  then 
extended  his  investigation  to  include  two  hundred 
other  individuals,  and  obtained  virtually  the  same  re- 
sults. 

"  These  facts,"  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  him  say- 
[103] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

ing  in  comment,  "  unanimously  witness  to  the  impor- 
tance of  early  interests.  They  are  shown  to  be  far 
from  fickle  and  evanescent.  ...  It  would  indeed  be 
hard  to  find  any  feature  of  a  human  being  which 
was  a  more  permanent  fact  of  his  nature  than  his 
relative  degree  of  interest  in  different  lines  of  thought 
and  action." 

What  this  means,  unquestionably,  is  that  every 
parent,  in  planning  the  education  of  his  children  or 
in  assisting  them  to  choose  a  vocation,  should  make 
a  real  effort  to  gain  some  insight  into  their  special 
interests.  Not  only  so,  but  there  is  reason  for  add- 
ing that  he  should  also  endeavour  to  ascertain  and 
cultivate  those  interests  while  his  children  are  still 
quite  young.  Otherwise  he  is  likely  to  find  them  grow- 
ing to  manhood  and  womanhood  —  as,  under  present 
conditions,  most  children  do  grow  —  with  the  strong- 
est of  their  "  worth  while  "  interests  so  attenuated 
that  really  effective  mental  effort  is  next  to  impossi- 
ble. In  these  circumstances  —  unless  they  chance, 
as  Charles  Darwin  did,  to  come  under  the  influence 
[104] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

of  a  personality  able  to  rouse  their  dormant  powers 
into  exceptional  activity  —  the  likelihood  is  that 
they  will  achieve  only  mediocre  results,  muddling 
along  through  life  even  when  they  happen  to  hit  on 
vocations  truly  suited  to  them. 

Are  we  to  infer  that  children,  at  a  tender  age, 
should  be  encouraged  to  think  seriously  about  seri- 
ous subjects?  Assuredly,  provided  the  subjects  be 
made  sufficiently  interesting  to  them.  It  is  not  with- 
out significance  that  a  large  majority  of  men  of 
genius  have  been  distinguished  for  their  precocity; 
or,  if  not  precocious  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the 
term,  they  have  busied  themselves  in  childhood  with 
mental  activities  allied  to  those  for  which  they  after- 
ward attained  eminence. 

Napoleon's  interest  in  military  problems  dates 
from  his  boyhood.  Lord  Kelvin,  the  foremost  physi- 
cist of  the  nineteenth  century,  was  making  electrical 
machines  when  only  nine  years  old,  and  played  with 
them  as  other  children  play  with  dolls  and  marbles. 
Thomas  Hobbes  translated  the  "  Medea  "  of  Euripi- 
[105] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

des  into  Latin  iambic  verse  before  he  was  fourteen. 
Cicero  at  thirteen  is  credited  with  having  written  a 
treatise  on  the  art  of  oratory.  Fenelon  preached  his 
first  sermon  when  only  fifteen  years  old.  Grotius 
at  the  age  of  fourteen  was  widely  known  for  his 
learning.  Hallam,  the  famous  historian,  could  read 
well  before  he  was  five,  and  had  turned  author  four 
years  later.  Galileo,  like  Lord  Kelvin,  constructed 
mechanical  toys  in  his  childhood. 

Not  to  accumulate  instances  tediously,  it  need  only 
be  added  that,  in  making  a  survey  of  the  biographies 
of  a  thousand  eminent  British  men  and  women,  the 
English  psychologist,  Havelock  Ellis,  found  that 
only  forty-four  were  specifically  mentioned  as  not 
having  been  precocious,  while  nearly  three  hundred 
were  mentioned  as  having  been  distinctly  precocious 
in  one  sense  or  another.  Even  in  the  case  of  the 
forty-four,  Mr.  Ellis  discovered,  several  were  really 
as  precocious  as  any  of  the  three  hundred,  being 
"  already  absorbed  in  their  own  lines  of  mental  ac- 
tivity." To  this  class  belong,  for  example,  Landor, 
[106] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

Byron,  and  Wiseman,  the  last  of  whom  is  described 
as  having  been  in  boyhood,  "  dull  and  stupid,  always 
reading  and  thinking."  Nor,  according  to  the  re- 
sults of  Mr.  Ellis's  investigation,  did  precocity  have 
any  unfavourable  effect  on  the  health  of  these  men 
and  women  of  genius. 

All  similar  investigations,  in  fact,  go  to  show  that 
intellectual  activity  makes  for  longevity  —  that 
those  who  think  hardest  are  likely  to  live  longest. 
Of  one  group  of  nearly  eight  hundred  and  fifty  men 
of  genius  it  was  found  that  only  two  hundred  and 
fifty  died  before  they  were  sixty  years  old,  while  one 
hundred  and  thirty-one  lived  to  be  eighty  or  older. 
For  another  group  of  five  hundred,  an  average  life- 
span  of  nearly  sixty-five  years  was  found,  as  against 
a  life-span  of  fifty-one  years  for  all  classes  of  peo- 
ple who  pass  the  age  of  twenty.  In  the  case  of  still 
another  group,  studied  by  a  third  investigator,  an 
average  of  seventy-one  years  was  established. 

What  gives  these  figures  greater  significance  is 
the  fact  that  in  many  instances  the  man  of  genius  is 
[107] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

exceptionally  frail  in  early  life.  Mr.  Ellis,  in  his 
statistical  study,  found  that  more  than  two  hundred 
—  or  more  than  20  per  cent,  of  the  eminent  men  and 
women  included  in  his  survey  —  were  "  congenitally 
of  a  notably  feeble  constitution,"  yet  that  among 
these  were  some  of  the  longest  lived.  How  is  this  to 
be  explained?  Only  on  the  theory  that  the  joy  they 
felt  in  doing  work  congenial  to  them  promoted  bodily 
as  well  as  mental  vigour.  And,  in  point  of  fact,  it 
is  to-day  a  commonplace  among  psychologists  that 
pleasurable  emotions  make  for  increased  strength, 
while  disagreeable  feelings  make  for  weakness. 

Viewed  from  whatever  angle,  therefore,  "  being  in- 
terested "  is  one  of  the  most  important  things  in  the 
world  to  every  one  of  us.  The  earlier  we  become  in- 
terested—  intensely  interested  —  in  some  specific 
field  of  activity,  the  brighter  our  future  prospects 
will  be. 

But  —  this  is  the  crucial  question  in  the  present 
connection  —  is  the  awaking  of  a  lively  interest,  an 
interest  so  intense  that  it  spurs  to  incessant  en- 
[108] 


THE    SECRET    OF    GENIUS 

deavour  in  some  special  field,  sufficient  to  account  for 
the  achievements  of  the  man  of  genius?  Granting 
that  the  man  of  genius  depends  for  his  results,  as  I 
have  tried  to  show,  on  the  extent  to  which  he  up- 
builds and  stimulates  his  subconscious  powers  by 
conscious  observation  and  thought,  must  we  not  as- 
sume that  he  possesses,  to  begin  with,  an  exceptional 
mental  capacity?  Or  is  favouring  circumstance  in 
his  environment  —  the  occurrence  of  events  that 
make  so  profound  an  impression  on  his  mind  as  to 
arouse  a  fervent  longing  for  accomplishment  —  suf- 
ficient to  explain  him?  In  short,  would  it  be  possi- 
ble, by  careful  education  and  the  wise  adjustment  of 
environmental  influences,  so  to  develop  any  individual 
of  normal  mentality  that  he  might  achieve  in  his 
chosen  life-work  results  usually  regarded  as  bearing 
the  stamp  of  genius? 

Such,  decidedly,  is  my  belief.     I  base  it  partly  on 

the  repeated  failure  of  investigators  to  demonstrate 

the  operation  of  heredity  in  the  making  of  the  vast 

multitude  of  men  of  genius  who,  in  the  history  of 

[109] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

mankind,  have  sprung  from  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  ancestors,  rich  and  poor,  proud  and  humble,  wise 
and  ignorant.  Partly  I  base  it  on  the  many  in- 
stances in  which  men  of  genius  have  themselves  been 
able  to  trace  the  determination  of  their  activities  to 
fortunate  happenings  in  early  life.  But  most  of  all 
I  base  it  on  certain  experiments  in  education  under- 
taken by  parents  entirely  unaware  of  the  inter- 
relationship between  conscious  thinking  and  subcon- 
scious "  inspiration,"  yet  intuitively  believing  that 
the  sooner  a  child  is  habituated  to  using  his  mind  to 
good  purpose  the  more  he  will  accomplish  in  later  life. 


[110] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 


IV 

INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 


1 


^IHE  student  body  of  Harvard  University 
at  present  includes  three  youths  whose  re- 
markable intellectual  achievements  and 


the  manner  of  their  upbringing  have  given  rise  to 
much  discussion  in  American  educational  circles. 
The  oldest  of  these  students  was  graduated  from 
Tufts  College  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  gained  the  de- 
gree of  Ph.D.  at  Harvard  when  only  eighteen,  and 
now  is  continuing  his  studies  abroad  as  the  holder 
of  a  Harvard  travelling  fellowship.  The  youngest 
of  the  trio  became  a  special  student  at  Harvard  be- 
fore he  was  twelve,  was  graduated  with  honours  when 
scarcely  sixteen,  and  is  at  present  engaged  in  post- 
graduate studies.  The  third  passed  the  regular 
Harvard  entrance  examinations  when  less  than  four- 
[113] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

teen,  completed  his  college  course  with  distinction  in 
three  years,  and  to-day  is  studying  law. 

What  has  excited  controversial  interest  in  these 
youths  is  not  so  much  their  precocity,  striking 
though  that  is,  as  the  fact  that  in  each  case  they 
have  been  educated  along  novel  lines  from  their 
earliest  childhood.  Their  fathers,  who  have  worked 
independently  of  one  another,  assert,  indeed,  that 
their  unusual  mental  development  is  not  due  to  any 
exceptional  talent,  but  is  the  result  of  the  peculiar 
home  training  they  have  received;  the  implication 
being  that  a  similar  development  is  possible  to  every 
normal  child  if  reared  in  the  same  way.  Besides 
which,  the  fathers  contend  that  the  prevailing  method 
of  giving  children  little  or  no  formal  education  until 
they  are  old  enough  to  go  to  school  is  fundamentally 
wrong;  that  the  home  is  the  proper  place  in  which 
to  begin  a  child's  education,  and  that  the  proper  time 
to  begin  is  with  the  first  dawning  of  the  child's  ability 
and  desire  to  use  his  reasoning  powers.  Or,  as  one 
of  them  has  recently  declared: 
[114] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

"  In  the  large  majority  of  children  the  beginning 
of  education  should  be  between  the  second  and  third 
.year.  It  is  at  that  time  that  the  child  begins  to 
form  his  interests.  It  is  at  that  critical  period  that 
we  have  to  seize  the  opportunity  to  guide  the  child's 
formative  energies  in  the  right  channels.  To  delay 
is  a  mistake  and  a  wrong  to  the  child.  We  can 
at  that  early  period  awaken  a  love  of  knowledge  which 
will  persist  through  life.  The  child  will  as  eagerly 
play  in  the  game  of  knowledge  as  he  now  spends  the 
most  of  his  energies  in  meaningless  games  and  ob- 
jectless, silly  sports."  (Boris  Sidis's  "  Philistine 
and  GUmius,"  pp.  67-68.) 

Some  few  educators  in  this  country  have  already 
tentatively  approved  the  new  ideas  in  child-training 
as  exemplified  by  the  methods  pursued  and  the  re- 
sults obtained  in  the  case  of  these  youthful  Harvard 
students.  For  the  most  part,  however,  their  promul- 
gation has  been  greeted  skeptically,  even  with  caus- 
tic criticism.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  alleged  that  the 
parents  cannot  positively  prove  that  the  achieve- 
[115] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

ments  of  their  boys  are  not  the  result  of  inherited 
gifts  rather  than  the  special  education  given  them; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  position  is  taken  that, 
assuming  the  correctness  of  their  fathers'  contention 
in  this  respect,  it  is  by  no  means  evident  that  such 
training  is  desirable. 

In  the  words  of  one  critic,  to  begin  the  education 
of  a  child  at  two  or  three  is  to  rob  that  child  of  his 
childhood.  The  training  in  question  is  described  as 
a  "  forcing  "  system,  much  talk  is  heard  of  "  mind 
strain,"  and  the  prediction  is  freely  made  that  the 
ultimate  outcome  can  only  be  to  drive  children  thus 
educated  into  an  asylum  for  the  insane,  or  into  an 
early  grave. 

My  own  belief  is  that  the  critics  are  wrong.  I 
have  long  been  acquainted  with  all  three  of  these 
students,  and  in  one  case  have  had  opportunity  to 
observe  rather  closely  the  process  of  mental  and 
physical  development  for  upward  of  eight  years. 
All  three  are  sturdy,  strong  young  fellows ;  if  any- 
thing above  the  average  for  their  years  in  stature 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

and  weight.  Time  alone,  of  course,  can  tell  whether 
they  will  live  to  a  good  old  age.  But  if  they  should 
die  or  become  insane,  I  am  satisfied  that  neither  mis- 
fortune could  justly  be  attributed  to  their  parents' 
educational  methods.  On  the  contrary,  the  prin- 
ciples underlying  these  methods  seem  to  me  for  the 
most  part  so  beneficial  that  I  believe  the  time  will 
come  when  they  will  be  quite  generally  adopted. 

Decidedly,  though,  I  should  not  express  myself  with 
such  assurance  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  these 
same  principles  have  long  ago  been  put  to  the  test  and 
impressively  vindicated.  I  wonder  if  the  name  of 
James  Thomson  of  Annaghmore  has  ever  been  heard 
by  those  who  have  so  hastily  condemned  the  parents 
of  the  three  Harvard  students?  Doubtless  not,  else 
they  would  surely  have  moderated  their  denuncia- 
tions. 

Thomson,  who  was  born  in  the  year  1786,  the  son 
of  a  Scotch-Irish  farmer,  was  pre-eminently  a  "  self- 
made  "  man.  Seemingly  doomed  to  the  obscure  ex- 
istence of  an  ordinary  farm-labourer,  he  had  eman- 
[117] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

cipated  himself  by  dint  of  an  extraordinary  energy. 
With  but  slight  aid  he  contrived,  while  a  mere  child, 
to  teach  himself  to  read,  write,  and  cipher.  In  the 
fields,  and  by  candle-light  in  his  farm  home,  at  every 
opportunity,  he  studied  little  text-books  that  were 
to  him  the  most  fascinating  things  in  the  world  be- 
cause they  gave  him  knowledge.  He  was  determined 
to  become  an  educated  man,  and  continually  he 
urged  his  father  to  let  him  go  to  school. 

To  school  eventually  he  went,  in  the  neighbouring 
village  of  Ballykine,  and  there,  as  in  his  childhood, 
he  found  his  greatest  delight  in  the  study  of  mathe- 
matics. He  must,  he  told  himself,  know  more  about 
this  great  science;  he  must  know  everything  that 
could  be  learned  about  it.  Also,  being  of  a  religious 
turn  of  mind,  he  planned  to  fit  himself  to  become 
a  clergyman.  Obviously,  whether  to  learn  higher 
mathematics,  or  to  qualify  for  the  ministry,  it  was 
necessary  to  go  to  college.  And  to  college  he  did 
go ;  but,  so  difficult  were  his  circumstances,  not  until 
he  was  a  man  full-grown. 

[118] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

From  1810  to  1814  —  that  is,  from  the  age  of 
twenty-four  to  twenty-eight  —  he  spent  six  months 
of  every  year  at  the  University  of  Glasgow.  The 
other  six  months  he  spent  earning  his  living. 
Finally  he  received  the  coveted  M.A.  degree,  and 
having  in  the  meantime  become  more  enamoured  of 
mathematics  than  of  a  clerical  career,  he  accepted 
appointment  to  the  teaching  staff  of  an  academy  in 
Belfast,  where,  married  to  a  sweetheart  of  his  Glas- 
gow days,  he  soon  entered  upon  the  additional  task 
of  bringing  up  a  family. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  he  becomes  of  special  in- 
terest to  us.  For,  looking  back  at  the  stupendous 
obstacles  he  himself  had  had  to  overcome  in  gaining 
an  education,  he  resolved  to  do  everything  in  his 
power  to  make  the  road  to  learning  easy  for  his  chil- 
dren. 

To  do  this,  it  seemed  to  him,  the  proper  course 

to  pursue  was  to  begin  their  education  as  soon  as 

they  showed  an  intelligent  interest  in  the  world  about 

them.     For,  he  argued,  quite  in  the  manner  of  the 

[119] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

fathers  of  the  three  Harvard  students  of  to-day,  it 
is  because  the  education  of  children  begins  too  late 
that  they  find  it  hard  to  learn,  and  strain  their  minds 
in  the  attainment  of  knowledge.  Let  a  child  get  ac- 
customed to  using  his  mind  to  good  purpose  in  early 
childhood,  and  study  will  never  be  a  tax  on  him  but 
a  perpetual  joy.  This,  thought  he,  is  the  way  all 
children  should  be  brought  up. 

And,  with  the  faithful  co-operation  of  his  wife, 
this  was  the  way  James  Thomson  brought  up  his  own 
children.  He  taught  them,  boys  and  girls,  to  spell 
and  to  read  almost  as  soon  as  they  could  speak.  He 
taught  them  mathematics,  history,  geography,  and 
the  elements  of  natural  science.  One  of  the  busiest 
of  men  —  for  he  was  a  writer  of  mathematical  text- 
books as  well  as  a  classroom  instructor  —  he  made 
great  sacrifices  for  the  sake  of  their  education.  He 
would  even  get  up  at  four  in  the  morning  to  work 
on  his  text-books  and  to  prepare  his  lectures,  so  as 
to  be  sure  of  having  freedom  to  instruct  his  little 
ones  during  the  day.  Especially  he  made  it  a  point 
[120] 


to  fertilise  their  minds,  to  whet  their  interest  in 
worth  while  things,  in  the  course  of  table-talk  and 
when  out  walking  with  them. 

"  When  spring  came,"  one  of  his  daughters,  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  King,  has  recalled  in  a  delightful  volume 
of  family  reminiscences,  "  our  father  generally  took 
a  walk  with  us  in  the  early  morning  before  break- 
fast, and  he  used  to  invent  interesting  topics  of  con- 
versation, which  were  carried  on  through  successive 
mornings.  Two  of  us  held  his  hands  and  two  walked 
quite  near,  but  the  places  of  honour  were  shared  al- 
ternately by  the  four.  I  remember  all  being  in- 
tensely interested  in  a  series  of  talks  on  the  prog- 
ress of  civilisation,  in  which  every  one,  even  little 
Willie,  suggested  ideas,  and  took  part  in  the  con- 
versation. 

"  We  also  in  these  walks  made  imaginary  voyages 
of  discovery,  full  of  adventure,  calling  at  various 
ports,  and  sailing  up  rivers  to  obtain  the  products 
of  the  countries  we  visited,  and  become  acquainted 
with  the  inhabitants.  We  explored  the  icy  regions 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

of  the  north,  the  burning  deserts  of  Africa  and 
Arabia,  and  the  fragrant  forests  of  Ceylon.  There 
was  no  end  to  our  travels  and  the  wonders  we  saw 
when  we  walked  with  our  father.  Sometimes  we 
transported  ourselves  to  ancient  days,  and  sailed 
with  the  Argonauts  in  search  of  the  golden  fleece, 
or  accompanied  the  Greeks  to  Troy  to  recover  the 
beautiful  Helen,  or  joined  Ulysses  in  his  protracted 
wanderings.  Our  father  always  led  the  talk,  but  we 
all  assisted." 

His  two  older  sons,  James  and  William,  were  the 
special  objects  of  his  care,  particularly  after  their 
mother's  death,  which  occurred  when  James  was 
eight  and  William  six.  After  this  sad  event  he  lived 
more  than  ever  with  these  two  boys,  giving  up  part 
of  his  bedroom  to  them,  and  diligently  drilling  them 
hi  the  rudiments  of  an  all-round  education.  When, 
in  1832,  he  was  appointed  professor  of  mathematics 
at  his  old  university,  he  continued  their  home  train- 
ing, and  in  addition  obtained  permission  for  them  to 
.[  122  ] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

attend  his  university  lectures  and  the  lectures  of  some 
other  professors. 

Two  years  later,  James  being  then  twelve  and  Wil- 
liam ten,  they  were  admitted  as  full-fledged  under- 
graduates. And,  precocious  though  they  were,  they 
also  were  healthy,  vigorous,  active  boys,  full  of  fun 
and  eager  to  romp  and  play.  Like  other  boys  they 
delighted  in  games  and  toys,  with  the  sole  differ- 
ence that  in  many  instances  their  toys  were  scien- 
tific instruments.  Thus,  they  made  with  their  own 
hands  little  electrical  machines  with  which  to  give 
harmless  and  laughter-provoking  shocks  to  their 
friends. 

In  a  word,  all  who  knew  them  liked  them  —  and 
marvelled  at  them.  There  was  abundant  cause  for 
marvel.  Not  only  did  they  keep  up  with  their  studies 
with  ease,  but  in  more  than  one  department  of  knowl- 
edge they  outdid  their  classmates,  some  of  whom 
were  well  into  their  twenties.  The  following  excerpt 
from  "  The  Book  of  the  Jubilee  "  gives  a  vivid  idea 
[123] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

of  the  scholastic  achievements  of  these  two  remark- 
able boys  in  the  first  years  of  their  life  at  Glasgow 
University : 

"  At  the  end  of  his  first  winter's  work  William 
Thomson  carried  off  two  prizes  in  the  Humanity 
Class  ;  this  before  he  was  eleven.  In  the  next  session 
we  follow  him  to  the  classes  of  Natural  History  and 
Greek  —  we  wonder  what  the  present  occupants  of 
these  chairs  would  say  to  a  stripling  under  twelve 
who  presented  himself  at  their  lectures  —  and  his 
name  figures  in  both  prize-lists. 

"  Sympathy  is  not  lacking  for  the  hard-worked 
school-boy  of  to-day ;  but  what  would  the  child  of 
twelve  think  of  the  holiday  task  of  translating  Lu- 
cian's  '  Dialogues  of  the  Gods,*  with  full  parsing  of 
the  first  three  dialogues !  This  is  the  piece  of  work 
for  which  William  Thomson,  Glasgow  College,  re- 
ceives a  prize  in  May,  1836. 

"  Next  session  we  find  the  two  brothers  together 
in  the  Junior  Mathematical  Class,  of  the  Junior  Di- 
vision of  which  they  are  first  and  second  prize-men. 
[124] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

They  appear  again  at  the  head  of  the  list  for  the 
Monthly  Voluntary  Examinations  on  the  work  of  the 
class  and  its  applications.  Proceeding  to  the  Senior 
Mathematical  Class  in  1837-38,  they  again  stand  at 
the  top,  nor  have  they  failed  to  present  themselves 
for  the  Voluntary  Examinations.  William  is  not 
satisfied  with  this  class,  but  in  addition  receives  the 
second  prize  in  the  Junior  Division  of  Professor 
Robert  Buchanan's  Logic  Class.'" 

And,  continuing  to  win  laurels,  at  the  close  of  the 
next  session  they  took  the  first  and  second  places  as 
prize-men  in  natural  philosophy,  while  William  the 
following  year  gained  the  class  prize  in  astronomy, 
and  was  awarded  a  university  medal  for  an  essay, 
"  On  the  Figure  of  the  Earth,"  the  manuscript  of 
which,  a  carefully  bound  volume  of  eighty-five  pages, 
is  still  in  existence.  He  was  then  not  sixteen  years 
old. 

Of  course  there  were  not  lacking  wiseacres  who 
dolefully  predicted  all  manner  of  unpleasant  things 
for  these  "  unhappy  victims  of  a  father's  folly," 
[125] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

who  must  inevitably  fade  into  an  early  grave.  But 
the  father  only  smiled  serenely,  confident  that  the 
future  would  vindicate  his  educational  innovation. 
And,  of  a  surety,  the  future  did.  For  James  Thom- 
son, the  older  of  the  two,  living  to  the  age  of 
seventy,  left  behind  him  the  reputation  of  one  of 
England's  leading  authorities  on  engineering;  while 
William,  who  did  not  die  until  he  was  eighty-three, 
became  even  more  famous,  winning,  as  Lord  Kelvin 
of  Largs,  a  place  in  the  annals  of  science  fairly  com- 
parable with  that  held  by  the  immortal  Newton. 

A  similar  process  of  intensive  child  culture  was 
carried  out,  with  similarly  happy  results,  in  the 
case  of  John  Stuart  Mill,  whose  father  modelled  his 
whole  upbringing  in  accordance  with  the  theory  that 
the  mind,  like  the  body,  grows  with  exercise,  and 
that  the  sooner  the  process  of  exercising  and  training 
it  begins,  the  better  the  child's  prospects  for  a 
worthy  and  efficient  manhood.  Like  James  Thom- 
son the  elder  Mill  was  an  exceedingly  busy  man,  but 
this  did  not  prevent  him,  from  making  the  intellectual 
[126] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

development  of  his  son  a  matter  of  patient,  personal 
attention.  Almost  as  soon  as  the  little  John  could 
talk,  his  formal  education  began,  and  throughout  his 
childhood  was  continued  along  lines  that  have  pro- 
voked indignant  comment  in  many  quarters. 

"  I  have  no  remembrance,"  he  tells  us,  in  his  in- 
teresting "  Autobiography,"  "  of  the  time  when  I 
began  to  learn  Greek.  I  have  been  told  that  it  was 
when  I  was  three  years  old.  My  earliest  recollection 
on  the  subject  is  that  of  committing  to  memory  what 
my  father  termed  vocables,  being  lists  of  common 
Greek  words,  with  their  signification  in  English, 
which  he  wrote  out  for  me  on  cards.  Of  grammar, 
until  some  years  later,  I  learned  no  more  than  the 
inflexions  of  the  nouns  and  verbs,  but  after  a  course 
of  vocables,  proceeded  at  once  to  translation;  and  I 
faintly  remember  going  through  *  JE  sop's  Fables,' 
the  first  Greek  book  which  I  read.  The  '  Anabasis,' 
which  I  remember  better,  was  the  second.  I  learned 
no  Latin  until  my  eighth  year. 

"  At  that  time  I  had  read,  under  my  father's  tui- 
[  127  ] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

tion,  a  number  of  Greek  prose  authors,  among  whom 
I  remember  the  whole  of  Herodotus,  and  of  Xeno- 
phon's  '  Cyropaedia  '  and  *  Memorials  of  Socrates  ' ; 
some  of  the  lives  of  the  philosophers  by  Diogenes 
Laertius ;  part  of  Lucian ;  and  '  Isocrates  ad 
Demonicum  '  and  *  Ad  Nicoclem.*  .  .  .  What  he  him- 
self was  willing  to  undergo  for  the  sake  of  my  in- 
struction, may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  I  went 
through  the  whole  process  of  preparing  my  Greek 
lessons  in  the  same  room  and  at  the  same  table  at 
which  he  was  writing ;  and  as  in  those  days  Greek  and 
English  lexicons  were  not,  and  I  could  make  no  more 
use  of  a  Greek  and  Latin  lexicon  than  could  be  made 
without  having  yet  begun  to  learn  Latin,  I  was  forced 
to  have  recourse  to  him  for  the  meaning  of  every 
word  which  I  did  not  know.  This  incessant  interrup- 
tion he,  one  of  the  most  impatient  of  men,  submitted 
to,  and  wrote  under  that  interruption  several  volumes 
of  his  history  and  all  else  that  he  had  to  write  during 
those  years. 

"  The  only  thing  besides  Greek  that  I  learned  as  a 
[128] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

lesson  in  this  part  of  my  childhood  was  arithmetic; 
this  also  my  father  taught  me.  It  was  the  task  of 
the  evenings,  and  I  well  remember  its  disagreeable- 
ness.  But  the  lessons  were  only  a  part  of  the  daily 
instruction  I  received.  Much  of  it  consisted  in  the 
books  I  read  by  myself,  and  my  father's  discourses  to 
me,  chiefly  during  our  walks. 

"  From  1810  to  1813  (that  is,  from  Mill's  fourth 
to  eighth  year)  we  were  living  in  Kensington  Green, 
then  an  almost  rustic  neighbourhood.  My  father's 
health  required  considerable  and  constant  exercise, 
and  he  walked  habitually  before  breakfast,  generally 
in  the  green  lanes  toward  Hornsey.  In  these  walks 
I  always  accompanied  him,  and  with  my  earliest  rec- 
ollections of  green  fields  and  wild-flowers,  is  mingled 
that  of  the  account  I  gave  him  daily  of  what  I  had 
read  the  day  before.  To  the  best  of  my  remem- 
brance, this  was  a  voluntary  rather  than  a  prescribed 
exercise.  I  made  notes  on  slips  of  paper  while  read- 
ing, and  from  these  in  the  morning  walks  I  told  the 
story  to  him.  .  .  . 

[129] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

"  In  these  frequent  talks  about  the  books  I  read, 
he  used,  as  opportunity  offered,  to  give  me  explana- 
tions and  ideas  respecting  civilisation,  government, 
morality,  mental  cultivation,  which  he  required  me 
afterward  to  restate  to  him  in  my  own  words.  .  .  . 
He  was  fond  of  putting  into  my  hands  books  which 
exhibited  men  of  energy  and  resource  in  unusual  cir- 
cumstances, struggling  against  difficulties  and  over- 
coming them:  of  such  works  I  remember  Beaver's 
'  African  Memoranda,'  and  Collins's  '  Account  of  the 
First  Settlement  of  New  South  Wales.'  ...  Of 
children's  books,  any  more  than  of  playthings,  I  had 
scarcely  any,  except  an  occasional  gift  from  a  relation 
or  acquaintance :  among  those  I  had,  *  Robinson  Cru- 
soe '  was  pre-eminent,  and  continued  to  delight  me 
through  all  my  boyhood. 

"  It  was  no  part,  however,  of  my  father's  system 
to  exclude  books  of  amusement,  though  he  allowed 
them  very  sparingly.  Of  such  books  he  possessed  at 
that  time  next  to  none,  but  he  borrowed  several  for 
me ;  those  which  I  remember  are  the  *  Arabian 
[130] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

Nights,'  Cazotte's  '  Arabian  Tales,'  '  Don  Quixote,' 
Miss  Edgeworth's  *  Popular  Tales,'  and  a  book  of 
some  reputation  in  its  day,  Brooke's  '  Fool  of  Qual- 
ity.' " 

In  one  respect,  it  must  be  conceded,  Mill's  early 
education  was  deficient  —  it  depended  altogether  too 
much  on  the  knowledge  to  be  gained  from  books,  and 
not  enough  on  direct  study  of  the  laws  and  beauties 
of  Nature.  But  against  this  stands  the  unquestion- 
able fact  that  it  did  establish  in  him  lifelong  habits 
of  industry  and  thoroughness,  and  an  abiding  joy 
in  intellectual  achievement;  and,  more  important,  it 
had  the  happy  result  of  habituating  him  to  regard 
himself  as  consecrated  to  a  life  of  labour  for  the  pub- 
lic good.  As  to  the  frequently  voiced  condemnation 
of  the  "  wrong  "  done  to  Mill  by  "  robbing  him  of  the 
joys  of  childhood,"  one  of  his  biographers,  Professor 
William  Minto,  justly  observes: 

"  Much  pity  has  been  expressed  over  the  dreary, 
cheerless  existence  that  the  child  must  have  led,  cut 
off  from  all  boyish  amusements  and  companionship, 
[131] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

working  day  after  day  on  his  father's  treadmill ;  but 
a  childhood  and  boyhood  spent  in  the  enlargement 
of  knowledge,  with  the  continual  satisfaction  of  diffi- 
culties conquered,  buoyed  up  by  day-dreams  of  emu- 
lating the  greatest  of  human  benefactors,  need  not 
have  been  an  unhappy  childhood,  and  Mill  expressly 
says  that  his  was  not  unhappy.  It  seems  unhappy 
only  when  we  compare  it  with  the  desires  of  child- 
hood left  more  to  itself,  and  when  we  decline  to  im- 
agine its  peculiar  enjoyments  and  aspirations.  Mill 
complains  that  his  father  often  required  more  than 
could  be  reasonably  expected  of  him,  but  his  tasks 
were  not  so  severe  as  to  prevent  him  from  growing 
up  a  healthy,  hardy,  and  high-spirited  boy,  though 
he  was  not  constitutionally  robust,  and  his  tastes  and 
pursuits  were  so  different  from  those  of  other  boys 
of  the  same  age." 

Mill  was  never  a  college  student,  and  was  for  the 

most  part  self-educated  after  his  sixteenth  year.    But 

had  he  been  sent  to  college  at  an  early  age,  as  his 

home  training  amply  warranted,  there  is  every  rea- 

[132] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

son  to  think  he  would  have  acquitted  himself  as  bril- 
liantly as  did  the  Thomson  boys,  and  as  did  Karl 
Witte,  another  noteworthy  example  of  the  possibili- 
ties open  to  all  parents.  Indeed,  Witte's  case  is  in 
some  respects  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  on 
record.  For  one  thing  his  father  has  left  a  minutely 
detailed  account  of  the  methods  employed  in  his  edu- 
cation; and  there  is  ground  to  suspect  that  at  the 
outset  of  life  Karl  Witte  was  below  rather  than  above 

V  , 

the  average  in  mentality. 

Born  in  July,  1800,  in  the  German  village  of 
Lochau,  near  Halle,  he  was  the  son  of  a  country 
clergyman,  likewise  named  Karl  Witte,  who  had  long 
been  regarded  as  somewhat  "  eccentric."  In  espe- 
cial the  elder  Witte  was  known  to  hold  "  peculiar  " 
views  on  education.  It  was  his  firm  belief,  just  as  it 
was  the  belief  of  James  Thomson  and  James  Mill, 
that  only  by  beginning  the  educational  process  in 
infancy  could  one  make  sure  of  developing  children 
into  really  rational  men  and  women.  Looking  at 
the  world  about  him,  and  noting  the  extent  to  which 
[133] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

people  wasted  their  lives  in  hopeless  inefficiency  and 
reckless  dissipation,  he  said  to  himself,  in  effect : 

"  These  poor  people  do  not  reason,  do  not  use 
their  God-given  intellects.  If  they  did  they  would 
conduct  themselves  altogether  differently.  The 
trouble  must  be  that  they  have  not  been  educated 
aright.  They  have  not  been  taught  how  to  think, 
and  what  to  think  about.  They  have  been  started 
wrong  in  life.  The  schools  and  universities  are  to 
blame,  but  far  more  their  parents  are  to  blame.  If 
love  of  the  good,  the  beautiful,  and  the  true  had 
been  implanted  in  them  in  youth,  if  they  had  been 
trained  from  the  first  in  the  proper  use  of  their  minds, 
they  would  not  now  be  living  so  foolishly." 

Holding  these  views,  Pastor  Witte  promised  him- 
self that  if  God  blessed  him  with  children  he  would 
make  their  education  his  special  care.  His  first  child, 
however,  died  in  early  infancy.  Then  came  Karl,  at 
birth  so  unprepossessing  and  "  stupid  "  in  appear- 
ance that  his  father  wondered  in  what  way  he  had 
offended  God  that  he  should  be  afflicted  with  a  wit- 
[134] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

less  child.  The  neighbours,  sympathising,  held  out 
what  hopes  they  could,  but  secretly  agreed  that  Pas- 
tor Witte's  boy  was  undoubtedly  an  idiot. 

Thus  matters  stood  until  one  day  the  father  fancied 
that  he  detected  in  the  child  signs  of  intelligence. 
There  and  then  he  set  about  "  making  a  man  of  him," 
as  he  expressed  it.  He  began,  even  before  Karl  could 
speak,  by  naming  to  him  different  parts  of  the  human 
body,  objects  in  his  bedroom,  etc.  Later,  as  soon 
as  the  child  was  old  enough  to  toddle  about,  he  grad- 
ually broadened  the  horizon  of  his  knowledge,  taking 
him  for  walks  through  the  streets  and  fields  of  Lo- 
chau,  and,  calling  his  attention  to  all  sorts  of  inter- 
esting things.  Encouraging  him  to  ask  questions  he 
went  in  his  replies  as  fully  as  possible  into  the  essen- 
tial details  of  the  subject  under  discussion.  Above 
all,  he  avoided  giving  superficial  answers,  for  it  was 
his  great  aim  to  impress  on  Karl  the  importance  of 
reasoning  closely,  of  appreciating  relationships  and 
dissimilarities.  If  the  child  asked  him  something  to 
which  he  could  not  respond  intelligently,  he  frankly 
[135] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

confessed  his  ignorance,  but  suggested  that  by  work- 
ing together  they  might  obtain  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer. 

Also,  in  his  daily  walks  and  conversations  with  his 
son,  "  baby  talk "  had  no  place.  It  was  part  of 
Pastor  Witte's  theory,  as  it  is  part  of  Doctor 
Berle's  to-day,  that  this  mode  of  addressing  children, 
however  it  may  appeal  to  the  sentimental  side  of 
fathers  and  mothers,  is  intellectually  enervating  to 
their  little  ones.  The  child  who  would  think  cor- 
rectly, he  argued,  must  be  taught  to  speak  cor- 
rectly. 

For  this  reason  he  not  only  drilled  Karl  in  the  cor- 
rect pronunciation  and  use  of  words,  but  insisted  that 
all  who  talked  with  the  child  should  be  careful  how 
they  spoke  to  him.  Besides  which,  with  an  intuitive 
appreciation  of  the  formative  value  of  even  the  seem- 
ingly most  trivial  details  of  the  home  environment, 
he  arranged  the  household  furnishings  so  that  they 
too,  by  the  subtle  influence  of  suggestion,  should  con- 
tribute powerfully  to  Karl's  development.  As  he 
[136] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

tells  us  in  his  own  account,  of  which  an  abridged 
translation  into  English  has  recently  been  made  by 
Professor  Leo  Wiener,  of  Harvard  University :  * 

"  I  tolerated  as  far  as  possible  nothing  in  my 
house,  yard,  garden,  etc.,  that  was  not  tasteful,  es- 
pecially nothing  that  did  not  harmonise  with  its  sur- 
roundings. If  anything  was  not  harmonious,  I  was 
uneasy  about  it  until  it  was  removed.  All  my  rooms 
were  papered  with  wall-paper  of  one  colour,  the  fields 
being  surrounded  by  pleasing  borders.  In  every 
room  there  was  but  little  furniture,  but  such  as  there 
was,  was  carefully  selected.  On  all  the  walls  hung 
paintings  or  etchings,  but  none  of  these  was  taste- 
lessly glaring  in  colours,  or  represented  an  unpleasant 
subject.  Our  yard  and  garden  were  in  bloom  from 
earliest  Spring  to  very  late  in  the  Fall.  Snowbells 
and  crocuses  started  the  procession,  and  winter  asters 
were  crushed  only  by  the  snow  or  a  severe  frost.  We 
ourselves  were  always  dressed  cleanly  but  simply." 

1  The  passages  quoted  by  me  from  Witte's  book  have  been 
made  partly  from  Professor  Wiener's  translation,  and  partly 
from  the  original. 

[  137  ] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

At  first,  it  must  be  said,  Karl's  mother  had  scant 
sympathy  with  her  husband's  enthusiasm.  She  felt 
that  he  was  mistaken,  that  the  child  was  "  too  stupid  " 
to  be  educated,  and  that  nothing  would  come  of  the 
pains  taken  with  him.  This  was  the  general  belief 
of  the  neighbourhood,  but  it  gave  place  to  a  feeling 
of  astonished  incredulity  upon  the  discovery  that  in 
reality  the  youngster  was  making  extraordinary 
progress,  and  was  displaying  not  only  intelligence  but 
a  love  of  knowledge  rarely  seen  in  boys  of  any  age. 
Before  he  was  six  all  who  talked  with  him  were  amazed 
at  the  proofs  he  gave  of  the  great  extent  to  which  he 
had  profited  from  his  early  training. 

Most  impressive  was  the  accuracy  and  fulness  of 
the  information  he  even  then  possessed  regarding  a 
variety  of  subjects,  and  his  linguistic  proficiency. 
His  study  of  foreign  languages  began  with  French, 
while  he  still  was  very  young,  and  was  conducted  in 
a  novel  way,  his  father  giving  him  French  transla- 
tions of  books  with  which  he  was  already  familiar  in 
German,  and  telling  him  to  read  them  for  a  certain 
[138] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

time  each  day.  No  attempt  was  made  to  teach  him 
the  grammar  of  the  language  as  it  is  commonly 
taught  in  the  schools,  his  father's  belief  being  that 
the  boy  could  best  pick  up  the  grammar  for  himself 
in  the  course  of  his  reading,  and  that  he  would  be 
able  to  master  the  French  translations  with  compara- 
tively little  trouble  by  reason  of  his  previous  training 
in  the  art  of  observation,  analysis,  and  synthesis. 
This  expectation  was  realised  so  fully  that,  accord- 
ing to  his  father's  statement,  Karl  within  a  year  was 
reading  French  with  ease. 

Meantime  he  had  begun  the  study  of  Italian,  and 
from  Italian  passed  to  Latin.  Chance  played  some 
part  in  introducing  him  to  this  language.  His  father 
had  taken  him  to  a  concert  in  Leipzig,  and  during  an 
intermission  handed  him  the  libretto.  He  looked  at 
it  casually,  then  with  some  intentness,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Why,  father,  this  is  not  French,  nor  is  it  Italian. 
It  must  be  Latin !  " 

"  Let  it  be  what  it  may,"  said  Witte,  "  if  only  you 
can  make  out  what  it  means.     Try  at  least." 
[139] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

The  boy,  already  grounded  in  two  languages  de- 
rived from  Latin,  puzzled  out  the  meaning  with  con- 
siderable success,  and  declared  enthusiastically: 

"  Father,  if  Latin  is  such  an  easy  language  as  this, 
I  should  like  to  learn  it." 

English  came  next,  and  then  the  study  of  Greek, 
a  language  regarding  which  the  boy's  curiosity  was 
whetted  by  tales  from  Homer  and  Xenophon  told  to 
him  by  his  father.  Again  the  process  was  chiefly 
one  of  self-education,  the  father  answering  —  when 
he  could  —  the  questions  put  to  him  by  Karl,  but 
always  insisting  to  the  latter  that  the  proper  way  to 
learn  anything  is  to  overcome  its  difficulties  for 
oneself.  He  was  now  studying  and  reading  French, 
Italian,  Latin,  English,  and  Greek,  in  all  of  which  he 
made  such  progress  that,  we  are  told,  by  the  time  he 
was  nine  he  had  read  Homer,  Plutarch,  Virgil,  Cicero, 
Fenelon,  Florian,  and  Metastasio  in  the  original,  be- 
sides Schiller  and  other  classical  German  writers. 

Naturally  the  fame  of  the  boy  spread  abroad,  and 
with  its  spreading  his  father  came  in  for  some  sharp 
[140] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

criticism.  Formerly  he  had  been  laughed  at  as  a 
man  who  was  essaying  the  impossible  in  striving  to 
impart  intelligence  to  a  mentally  subnormal  child. 
Now  that  he  had  succeeeded  so  well  in  his  undertak- 
ing people  asserted  that  he  was  fanatically  endeav- 
ouring to  convert  the  child  into  a  weird  thinking  ma- 
chine, and  endangering  his  health  and  sanity.  Pre- 
cisely the  same  objections,  in  short,  were  raised  to 
his  educational  experiment  that  were  later  raised  in 
the  case  of  the  Thomson  boys  and  John  Stuart  Mill, 
and  that  have  recently  been  raised  against  the  educa- 
tional methods  of  the  fathers  of  the  three  youths  now 
in  Harvard. 

All  kinds  of  absurd  stories  were  circulated  regard- 
ing Karl.  He  was  pictured  quite  generally  as  a 
pale,  anaemic,  puny,  goggle-eyed  "  freak,"  who  had 
missed  the  delights  of  childhood  and  was  vastly  to 
be  pitied.  In  reality,  he  was  a  happy,  joyous 
youngster,  who  got  as  much  "  fun  "  out  of  life  as  any 
boy  could.  This  is  the  unanimous  testimony  of  those 
who  "  investigated  "  the  lad  for  themselves.  Thus 
[141] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  archaeologist  Heyne,  in  a  statement  to  his  friend 
the  famous  philosopher  and  poet  Wieland,  frankly 
admitted : 

"  I  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded  to  examine 
young  Witte,  in  order  to  be  able  to  form  my  own 
opinion  of  him.  I  found  the  boy  in  body  and  mind 
happy  and  hale  to  a  greater  degree  than  I  had  ex- 
pected. I  found,  in  testing  him  with  Homer  and 
Virgil,  that  he  had  sufficient  knowledge  of  words  and 
things  to  translate  readily  and  strike  the  right  mean- 
ing, and  that,  without  exact  grammatical  and  lingual 
knowledge,  he  was  able  to  guess  correctly  the  mean- 
ing of  a  passage  from  its  context.  What  was  most 
remarkable  to  me  was  that  he  read  with  understand- 
ing, feeling,  and  effect. 

"  Otherwise  I  found  in  him  no  preponderating  fac- 
ulty. Memory,  imagination,  reasoning,  were  about  in 
equilibrium.  In  other  matters  besides  those  that 
had  been  inculcated  by  education,  I  found  him  a 
happy,  lusty  boy,  not  even  averse  from  mischief, 
which  was  to  me  a  quieting  thing." 
[142] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

At  the  same  time  that  he  was  thus  instructing 
Karl  in  languages  and  literature,  Witte  sought  to 
awaken  in  him  a  love  of  art  and  science.  Neither 
artist  nor  scientist  himself,  he  none  the  less  believed 
that  if  he  could  only  interest  his  son  sufficiently  in 
artistic  and  scientific  subjects,  he  would  study  them 
enthusiastically.  To  this  end  he  adopted  a  plan 
which  might  well  be  imitated  by  all  parents. 

Whenever  he  went  to  Halle,  Leipzig,  or  any  other 
German  city,  he  took  Karl  with  him,  and  together 
they  visited  art  galleries,  natural  history  museums, 
zoological  and  botanical  gardens,  and  manufacturing 
establishments.  Not  for  a  moment,  however,  did  he 
hint  to  the  boy  that  he  was  doing  this  for  educational 
purposes.  When,  for  example,  they  visited  a  fac- 
tory, he  did  not  say,  "  I  have  brought  you  here  to 
give  you  a  lesson  in  mechanics."  He  allowed  the 
boy  to  think  that  he  simply  wished  to  entertain  him ; 
and  in  this  way,  without  Karl's  suspecting  it,  he  was 
able  to  impart  to  him  much  elementary  instruction 
in  zoology,  botany,  physics,  chemistry,  etc. 
[143] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

Similarly  he  taught  Karl  geography  by  the  pleas- 
ing device  of  first  taking  him,  on  a  clear  day,  to  the 
top  of  a  high  tower  that  happened  to  be  in  Lochau, 
and -asking  him  to  mark  on  a  piece  of  paper,  brought 
to  the  tower  for  that  purpose,  the  position  of  the 
different  villages  visible  in  the  surrounding  country. 
This  first  trip  was  followed  by  others,  in  which  the 
boy  expanded  and  corrected  the  markings  on  his 
paper,  putting  in  rivers,  lakes,  and  forests.  Witte 
then  bought  for  him  a  set  of  maps  showing,  in  suc- 
cession, the  part  of  Germany  in  which  he  lived,  all 
Germany,  Europe,  and  the  other  continents.  These 
father  and  son  studied  together,  not  as  a  study,  but 
as  a  game,  in  which  the  boy  took  part  with  the  great- 
est enthusiasm. 

"  I  never  acted,"  Witte  himself  has  declared,  "  as 
though  he  had  to  learn  these  things.  He  would  have 
been  surprised  if  told  that  he  had  been  studying 
geography,  physics,  chemistry.  I  avoided  the  men- 
tion of  such  terms,  so  as  not  to  frighten  him,  and  in 
order  not  to  make  him  vain." 
[144] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

Not  to  make  him  vain !  Be  sure,  indeed,  that  Pas- 
tor Witte,  while  promoting  his  son's  mental  develop- 
ment, would  not  forget  to  ground  him  in  moral  prin- 
ciples. He  was  not,  let  it  be  clearly  understood, 
striving1  to  make  an  intellectual  "  prodigy  "  of  his 
son;  he  was  aiming  only  to  make  him  a  man  in  the 
truest  sense,  strong  physically  and  morally  as  well  as 
mentally.  If  he  believed  that  the  boy's  reasoning 
powers  could  not  be  properly  developed  unless  he 
were  trained  from  infancy  in  the  principles  of  sound 
reasoning,  he  was  quite  as  firmly  convinced  that  the 
process  of  moral  education  should  likewise  begin  at 
the  earliest  possible  moment.  To  this  end,  believing 
as  he  did  in  the  importance  of  early  environmental 
influences  and  of  parental  example,  he  endeavoured 
to  secure  for  his  son  wholly  ennobling  surroundings. 

He  even  laid  down  rules  to  be  observed  by  the 
maid-of-all-work,  a  simple  but  good-hearted  peasant 
girl,  in  her  dealings  with  the  child.  The  whole  fam- 
ily life  was  regulated  with  a  view  to  "  suggesting  "  to 
the  little  Karl  ideas  which,  sinking  into  the  subcon- 
[145] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

scious  region  of  his  mind,  would  tend  to  affect  favour- 
ably his  moral  outlook  and  exercise  a  lasting  influ- 
ence on  his  conduct.  In  their  relations  with  all  who 
visited  their  home  —  as  with  each  other,  with  Karl 
himself,  and  with  the  little  serving-maid  —  both  Pas- 
tor Witte  and  his  wife  were  unfailingly  courteous, 
considerate,  and  sympathetic.  Over  and  above  all 
this,  they  set  him  a  constant  example  in  diligence,  of 
that  earnest  activity  which  is  itself  a  powerful  factor 
in  moral  discipline. 

Important  also  is  it  to  note  that  in  their  daily 
walks  and  talks  together,  Karl's  father  took  good 
care  to  cultivate  in  him  the  gift  of  imagination,  which 
means  so  much  to  the  moral  as  well  as  the  mental 
growth  of  man.  When  they  went  hand  in  hand  across 
the  fields  of  Lochau,  it  was  not  only  in  rudiments  of 
science  that  Witte  instructed  his  son ;  he  deftly  awak- 
ened in  him  an  appreciation  of  the  sublimity  and 
beauty  in  the  workings  of  Nature.  When  he  nar- 
rated to  him  stories  from  history,  it  was  not  merely  to 
interest  him  in  the  study  of  history;  the  emphasis 
[146] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

was  on  some  moral  trait  exemplified  by  the  particu- 
lar story.  In  familiarising  him  with  the  life  of  Lo- 
chau  itself,  in  introducing  him  to  its  shops  and  cot- 
tage-homes, the  effort  was  tactfully  made  to  awaken 
and  broaden  his  sympathies.  Always  it  was  one  of 
Witte's  chief  objects  to  keep  his  son  as  free  as  possi- 
ble from  anything  that  might  make  for  harshness, 
narrowness,  and  intolerance  in  later  years. 

Even  when  Karl  was  not  more  than  three  or  four 
years  old,  his  father  did  not  deem  it  too  early  to  at- 
tempt by  rebuke  and  admonition  to  instil  into  him 
the  idea  that  he  ought  to  guard  his  tongue  closely 
to  avoid  hurting  the  feelings  of  other  people.  All 
children,  as  is  well  known,  are  inclined  to  "  speak  out 
in  meeting,"  and  frequently  their  "  cute  "  comments, 
which  many  parents  applaud  as  evidences  of  keen  ob- 
servational power,  convey  a  sting  to  the  person  com- 
mented on.  So  soon  as  this  universal  trait  of  child- 
hood appeared  in  little  Karl  his  father  set  about  sup- 
pressing it,  and  at  the  same  time  sought  to  utilise 
it  as  an  aid  in  his  moral  education.  The  occasion 
£147] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

arose  following  a  thoughtless  remark  by  the  child 
regarding  some  slight  eccentricity  in  the  behaviour 
of  a  certain  Herr  N.,  a  friend  of  the  family.  When 
father  and  son  were  alone,  the  former  asked: 

"  Why  did  you  speak  of  Herr  N.  as  you  did?  " 

"  Because  what  I  said  was  true." 

"  I  grant  that.  It  was  true  —  it  was,  indeed,  very 
true.  But  that  is  no  reason  you  should  have  said  it. 
It  was  neither  good  nor  kind  of  you.  Did  you  not 
see  how  disturbed  he  became?  He  would  say  nothing 
back,  perhaps  because  of  the  love  he  bears  for  us. 
But  it  pained  him  very  much  that  a  child  should  say 
anything  so  unpleasant  to  him.  If  he  is  unhappy  to- 
day, the  fault  is  yours." 

Witte  tells  us  that  it  was  not  long  before  Karl 
acquired  the  excellent  habit  of  "putting  himself  in 
the  other  fellow's  place  "  before  uttering  censorious 
judgments.  Similarly,  and  with  equal  success,  his 
father  endeavoured  to  broaden  his  sympathies  so  as 
to  include  the  brute  creation.  It  happened  one  day, 
when  Karl  was  about  three  years  old,  that  there  were 
[148] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

at  his  home  a  number  of  guests,  who  made  much  of 
the  child,  naturally  to  his  great  delight.  While  they 
were  talking  to  him  the  family  dog  came  into  the 
room,  and  Karl,  as  any  child  might,  playfully  caught 
it  by  the  tail  and  drew  it  to  him.  As  he  did  so,  his 
father,  putting  out  his  hand,  caught  Karl  himself 
by  his  long  hair  and  pulled  it  exactly  as  he  was  pull- 
ing the  tail  of  the  dog.  Karl  turned,  saw  his  father's 
indignant  look,  blushed  crimson,  and  released  the 
dog. 

At  once  his  father  released  him,  and  demanded: 

"  How  did  you  like  that?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  was  the  embarrassed  answer. 

"  Well,  then,  do  you  think  the  dog  liked  it?  Now 
go  out  to  the  yard." 

"  I  sent  him  out,"  Witte  says,  "  not  only  as  a  pun- 
ishment, but  because  I  saw  that  some  of  my  guests 
were  about  to  open  their  lips  to  take  his  part  and  to 
blame  me  —  in  his  presence !  —  for  my  treatment  of 
him.  But  one  of  them,  speaking  suddenly,  said : 

" '  God  bless  you,  dear  friend.  If  Karl,  as  I  be- 
[149] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

lieve  he  is  certain  to  do,  shall  grow,  to  be  a  good  man, 
he  will  thank  you  heartily  for  this  lesson.  I  wish 
to  Heaven  we  thus  and  always  handled  our  children. 
Then  they  would  be  sure  to  learn  to  treat  animals 
kindly,  and  by  so  much  the  more  to  treat  their  fellow- 
men  kindly ! " 

And  Witte  adds,  dryly : 

"  After  this,  none  of  those  present  thought  it  well 
to  say  anything  in  criticism  of  me." 

He  had,  in  fact,  taken  precisely  the  course  best 
calculated  to  impress  on  Karl  the  vitally  important 
principle  of  kindness  to  all  living  creatures.  For  he 
had  brought  this  principle  home  to  him  in  a  way  the 
child's  mind  could  readily  grasp,  and  without  un- 
necessary harshness  and  "  nagging,"  which,  after  all, 
only  arouse  those  contrariant  ideas  that  it  should 
be  the  great  aim  of  education  to  suppress.  And  it 
was  thus  that  Witte  and  his  wife  always  acted  in  the 
upbringing  of  their  boy  through  the  critical  forma- 
tive period  of  early  childhood.  The  moment  any 
[150] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

undesirable  characteristic  made  its  appearance  they 
hastened  to  awaken  in  him  a  sense  of  its  extreme  un- 
desirability  by  words  and  conduct  that  appealed 
forcefully  both  to  his  understanding  and  to  his  emo- 
tions. 

Particularly  did  they  appeal  —  and  here  is  a  point 
deserving  of  special  emphasis  —  to  his  sense  of  filial 
love.  That  they  were  able  to  make  their  appeal  un- 
failingly successful,  that  the  child  always  found  in 
it  a  compelling  motive  for  good  behaviour,  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  their  whole  attitude  toward  him  made 
him  realise  that  he  was  an  object  of  devoted,  though 
not  over-indulgent,  love  on  their  part.  Never  re- 
buked without  a  sufficient  cause,  and  always  more  in 
sorrow  than  in  anger ;  given  a  free  hand  in  all  things 
except  those  injurious  or  detrimental  to  him;  made  a 
companion  and  a  playmate  by  both  parents  —  he 
soon  perceived,  as  any  child  would,  that  they  had 
nothing  more  warmly  at  heart  than  his  best  interests 
and  his  happiness.  Loved  as  he  was,  he  gave  out 
[151] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

abundant  love  in  return,  and  the  great  ambition  of 
his  childhood  became  a  passionate  desire  to  please  his 
father  and  mother. 

Hence  it  was  that  Witte,  in  carrying  out  his  policy 
of  early  intellectual  training,  found  no  more  potent 
spur  to  incite  his  boy  to  study  the  subjects  given  him 
than  the  simple  statement,  "  You  know,  dear  Karl, 
you  must  learn  all  you  can,  so  that  you  will  be  able 
to  care  for  your  mother  and  me  when  we  are  old  and 
feeble."  Hence,  too,  the  child  acquired  habits  of 
obedience,  self-control,  and  truthfulness,  largely  be- 
cause of  his  anxiety  not  to  bring  pain  to  his  parents. 
They,  however,  it  is  to  be  noted,  were  careful  to  dis- 
cipline him  firmly  if  he  did  commit  a  fault,  but  always 
in  a  way  that  caused!  him  to  appreciate  the  reason- 
ableness of  the  punishment  inflicted  on  him. 

Sufch  was  the  manner  of  Karl  Witte's  education  up 
to  the  age  of  nine.  By  that  time  he  had  learned  so 
much,  and  was  so  well  trained  in  the  use  of  his  mental 
powers,  that  his  father  decided  to  send  him  to  col- 
lege. At  nine  and  a  half,  to  the  amazement  of  all 
[152] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

Germany,  he  entered  the  University  of  Leipzig. 
There,  as  at  the  universities  of  Gottingen,  Giessen, 
and  Heidelberg,  where  he  also  prosecuted  his  studies, 
his  career  was  brilliant  in  the  extreme.  No  subject 
—  and  he  applied  himself  to  many  subjects  —  seemed 
beyond  his  powers.  In  1814,  before  he  had  passed 
his  fourteenth  birthday,  he  was  granted  the  degree  of 
Ph.D.  for  a  thesis  on  the  "  Conchoid  of  Nicomedes," 
a  curve  of  the  fourth  degree.  Two  years  later  he 
was  made  a  Doctor  of  Laws,  and  appointed  to  the 
teaching  staff  of  the  University  of  Berlin. 

Before  beginning  to  teach,  however,  it  was  thought 
best  for  him  to  spend  some  time  in  foreign  travel, 
which  he  was  enabled  to  do,  thanks  to  the  generosity 
of  no  less  a  personage  than  the  King  of  Prussia,  who 
had  been  following  his  university  career  with  lively 
interest.  Abroad,  therefore,  Karl  Witte  went, 
chiefly  to  study  law,  the  teaching  of  which  he  had 
definitely  selected  as  his  profession.  But  toward  the 
close  of  1818  an  incident  occurred  which,  while  it 
did  not  turn  him  from  law,  opened  up  to  him  another 
[153] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

field  of  intellectual  activity,  and  the  one  in  which  he 
ultimately  won  his  greatest  fame. 

While  sojourning  in  Florence  he  chanced  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  a  talented  woman  who,  discussing 
with  him  the  masters  of  Italian  literature,  half  in 
jest  and  half  in  earnest  warned  him  not  to  attempt 
to  read  Dante,  whom  he  could  never  hope  to  "  under- 
stand." Naturally  this  roused  his  curiosity,  and  he 
promptly  bought  an  elaborate  edition  of  the  "  Divine 
Comedy."  Reading  this  through,  he  then  read  what 
the  commentators  had  to  say  about  it,  and  was 
shocked  at  what  he  considered  the  inadequacy  and 
positive  error  of  their  views.  "  Some  day,"  said  he 
to  himself,  "  I  will  certainly  make  an  effort  to  pro- 
mote a  better  appreciation  of  Dante."  This  reso- 
lution he  carried  into  effect  five  years  later  by  the 
publication,  in  Germany,  of  one  of  the  most  important 
literary  essays  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  was 
entitled  "  On  Misunderstanding  Dante,"  and  con- 
cerning it  a  modern  authority  on  the  study  of  Dante, 
Philip  H.  Wicksteed,  declares: 
[154] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

"  If  the  history  of  the  revival  of  interest  in  Dante 
which  has  characterised  this  century  shall  ever  be 
written,  Karl  Witte  will  be  the  chief  hero  of  the  tale. 
He  was  little  more  than  a  boy  when,  in  1823,  he  en- 
tered the  lists  against  existing  Dante  scholars,  all 
and  sundry,  demonstrated  that  there  was  not  one  of 
them  that  knew  his  trade,  and  announced  his  readi- 
ness to  teach  it  to  them.  The  amazing  thing  is  that 
he  fully  accomplished  his  vaunt.  His  essay  exer- 
cised a  growing  influence  in  Germany,  and  then  in 
Europe;  and  after  five-and-forty  years  of  indefat- 
igable and  fruitful  toil  he  was  able  to  look  back 
upon  his  youthful  attempt  as  containing  the  germ  of 
all  his  subsequent  work  on  Dante.  But  now,  instead 
of  the  audacious  young  heretic  and  revolutionist,  he 
was  the  acknowledged  master  of  the  most  prominent 
Dante  scholars  in  Germany,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Eng- 
land, and  America." 

In  fact,  from  the  time  of  the  publication  of  this 
preliminary  paper,  almost  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
Dante  essays,  translations,  commentaries,  came  from 
[155] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

the  pen  of  Karl  Witte,  to  delight  an  ever-widening 
circle  of  Dante  scholars,  and  incidentally  to  promote 
the  study  of  Italian  history.  To  understand  Dante, 
Witte  iterated  and  reiterated,  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  have  a  knowledge  of  mediaeval  Italy.  Espe- 
cially must  one  study  the  religious  pre-occupation  of 
the  age,  as  seen  in  the  rise  of  Saint  Francis  and  Saint 
Dominic,  the  Thomist  reconstitution  of  theology  and 
the  contemporary  consolidation  of  the  hierarchy,  and 
the  attitude  of  the  period  toward  the  Albigenses  and 
other  heretics.  This  knowledge  one  must  gain  if  he 
would  fully  appreciate  the  true  significance  of  the 
"  Divine  Comedy  "  as  the  portrayal  of  man  given 
over  to  sin  and  prevented  by  his  lusts  from  recover- 
ing the  path  to  virtue,  till  the  Christian  religion 
teaches  him,  by  the  light  of  understanding,  to  recog- 
nise sin  and  free  himself  from  it,  and  then  offers  to 
his  transported  vision  the  divine  revelation  of  the 
secret  and  bliss  of  Heaven. 

Yet  all  the  while  the  propagation  of  his  views  on 
Dante  and  the  fostering  of  a  love  for  Dante  were  but 
[156] 


INTENSIVE  CHILD  CULTURE 

an  avocation  with  Karl  Witte.  His  vocation,  his 
life-work,  was  the  teaching  of  the  principles  of  law, 
both  in  the  class-room  and  by  the  pen.  It  was  in 
1821,  soon  after  his  return  from  Italy,  that  he  was 
established  as  lecturer  on  jurisprudence  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Breslau,  being  appointed  to  a  full  profes- 
sorship two  years  later,  and  transferred  to  Halle  in 
1834.  There  he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  long 
and  distinguished  life,  which  did  not  terminate  until 
March  6,  1883,  when  he  passed  away  sincerely 
mourned  as  "  a  devout  Christian  and  elder  of  the 
church,  a  scholar  overwhelmed  with  honours  and  dis- 
tinctions, a  tender  husband  and  father." 

Thus  the  "  forcing  "  process  to  which  his  father 
had  subjected  him  did  not  in  the  least  hurt  Karl 
Witte.  It  is  one  which  any  conscientious  and  intel- 
ligent parent  may  make  use  of  for  his  own  children 
if  he  so  desires.  And,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  chil- 
dren reared  in  this  way  will  have  a  far  better  chance 
for  success  and  happiness  in  after  years  than  would 
otherwise  be  theirs. 

[157] 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  LAZINESS 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  LAZINESS 

FROM  what  has  already  been  said,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  there  are  at  least  three  funda- 
mental principles  to  be  observed  by  all 
parents  who  would  give  their  children  a  good  start  in 
life.  Care  must  be  taken  to  set  the  little  ones  a  really 
good  parental  example;  they  must  be  surrounded 
from  the  dawn  of  consciousness  by  a  favourable  en- 
vironment; and  the  effort  should  be  made  by  direct 
instruction  to  develop  in  them  habits  of  right  think- 
ing and  acting  before  wrong  habits  have  time  to  get 
formed.  To  these  three  principles  a  fourth  must 
now  be  added:  the  exercise  of  constant  vigilance  to 
detect  and  correct  any  physical  disabilities,  no  mat- 
ter how  trivial  they  may  seem  to  be. 

As  was  noted  when  discussing  the  case  of  the  boy 
[161] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

who  "  goes  wrong,"  even  comparatively  slight  physi- 
cal defects,  by  causing  neural  stress,  may  contribute 
directly  to  the  making  of  the  juvenile  delinquent. 
So,  too,  mental  development  may  be  hampered  by 
unfavourable  conditions  of  bodily  health.  This,  of 
course,  has  long  been  recognised  in  a  general  way. 
But  in  essential  details  it  still  is  a  fact  far  too  little 
appreciated  by  the  majority  of  parents.  Nay,  it  is 
ignored  or  misunderstood  even  by  some  scientific  stu- 
dents of  the  nature  of  man,  as  is  shown,  for  example, 
by  the  varying  views  held  to-day  regarding  that  wide- 
spread human  frailty,  laziness. 

Only  a  short  time  ago,  looking  through  some  sci- 
entific works  bearing  on  a  complicated  educational 
problem,  I  was  greatly  struck  by  two  pronounce- 
ments concerning  laziness.  On  the  one  hand  I  found 
an  eminent  physiologist  declaring  unreservedly, 
"  The  love  of  work  and  activity  is  an  acquired  char- 
acteristic rather  than  a  natural  one;  for  the  human 
tendency  is  toward  the  line  of  least  effort."  And 
opposed  to  this  another  authority  asserted  with  equal 
[162] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF    LAZINESS 

emphasis,  "  There  never  was  a  child  born  into  this 
world  who  was  born  into  it  lazy." 

To  reconcile  these  statements  is  a  manifest  impos- 
sibility. Yet  it  is  certain  that  each  of  them  finds  in 
facts  of  everyday  observation  a  strong  body  of  evi- 
dence to  support  it.  The  average  child  of  tender 
years,  as  every  parent  knows,  is  supremely  active  and 
energetic.  He  is  always  in  motion,  always  busying 
himself  about  something,  his  mind  alert  and  inquiring, 
his  hands  ceaselessly  occupied  in  testing,  exploring, 
putting  together,  and  taking  to  pieces.  Left  to  him- 
self, he  often  will  display  an  amazing  tenacity  of  pur- 
pose and  vigour  of  performance. 

Of  one  child,  less  than  a  year  old,  a  close  observer 
has  recorded,  "  He  would  over  and  over  again  seem 
to  be  trying  to  solve  the  problem  of  the  hinge  to  'his 
nursery  door,  patiently  and  with  riveted  attention 
opening  and  shutting  the  door.  Day  after  day  saw 
him  at  his  self-appointed  task."  Another,  fourteen 
months  old,  while  playing  with  a  tin  can,  was  seen  to 
put  the  cover  on  and  off  "  not  less  than  seventy-nine 
[163] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

times  without  stopping  for  a  moment."  The  inces- 
sant questioning  with  which  children  bombard  their 
parents  is  another  impressive  indication  of  their  ex- 
uberant, irrepressible  activity  and  energy.  But, 
for  that  matter,  the  whole  life  of  the  average  child 
goes  to  corroborate  the  dictum  that  the  people  of 
this  world  come  into  it  free  from  the  taint  of  lazi- 
ness. 

When,  however,  we  look  at  the  same  child  grown  to 
manhood,  or  even  a  few  years  removed  from  early 
youth,  more  often  than  not  his  behaviour  seems  to 
bear  out  the  contrary  view  that  man  is  naturally  lazy 
and  acquires  love  of  work,  if  at  all,  only  under  strong 
compulsion.  "  To  get  results  from  my  boys,  to  induce 
them  to  apply  themselves  to  their  books  and  their 
studies,"  many  a  despairing  school-teacher  has  la- 
mented, "  I  have  to  be  forever  watching  and  driving 
them."  In  college,  office,  factory,  workshop,  and 
store,  one  hears  the  same  complaint.  There  is  per- 
petual waste  of  time,  dawdling,  loitering,  gossiping 
—  a  seeming  passion  for  the  ways  of  slothful  ease 
[164] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF    LAZINESS 

and  aversion  from  sustained  endeavour.  To  a  large 
extent,  too,  the  history  even  of  those  who  have  won 
distinction  as  leaders  of  thought  and  action  seem- 
ingly justifies  the  doctrine  that  mankind  is  naturally 
prone  to  idleness  rather  than  to  productive  activity, 
and  that  any  tendency  in  the  latter  direction  is  in- 
variably a  characteristic  acquired  in  the  course  of 
individual  development. 

Thus  Charles  Darwin,  world-famous  for  his  splen- 
did contributions  to  the  advance  of  science,  was  so 
lazy  in  boyhood  that  his  father  predicted  he  would 
turn  out  a  ne'er-do-well  and  a  disgrace  to  the  family. 
His  great  contemporary,  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  similarly 
had  as  a  boy  a  profound  dislike  for  work  of  any 
sort.  Heinrich  Heine,  on  his  own  confession,  idled 
away  his  time  in  school,  and  was  "  horribly  bored  " 
by  the  instruction  given  him  at  Gottingen.  Accord- 
ing to  an  American  psychologist,  Edgar  James  Swift, 
who  has  made  an  extensive  study  of  the  boyhood  of 
great  men,  Wordsworth  up  to  the  age  of  seventeen 
was  so  lazy  as  to  be  "  wholly  incapable  of  continued 
[165] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

application  to  prescribed  work."  Of  Patrick  Henry 
it  is  recorded  by  an  early  biographer  that  in  boy- 
hood "  he  was  too  idle  to  gain  any  solid  advantage 
from  the  opportunities  which  were  thrown  in  his 
way."  And,  after  his  schooling  was  done,  indolence 
caused  him  tp  fail  dismally  in  several  business  ven- 
tures before  he  took  up  the  study  of  law. 

When  James  Russell  Lowell  was  a  boy  his  relatives 
were  greatly  distressed  by  his  laziness,  and  he  was 
suspended  by  the  authorities  of  Harvard  University 
"  on  account  of  continual  neglect  of  his  college  du- 
ties." A  boyhood  friend  who  had  unusual  facilities 
for  observation  is  credited  with  having  repeatedly 
declared  that  "  there  never  was  so  idle  a  dog  as  young 
Humphry,"  afterward  Sir  Humphry  Davy  of  scien- 
tific renown.  "  My  master,"  Samuel  Johnson  once 
remarked,  in  speaking  of  his  school-boy  days, 
"  whipped  me  very  hard.  Without  that,  sir,  I  should 
have  done  nothing."  Balzac,  who  wrote  so  many 
novels,  yet  did  not  let  one  appear  until  it  had  under- 
gone repeated  revision,  confessed  that  not  only  in 
[166] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

boyhood  but  throughout  the  years  of  his  literary  la- 
bours he  was  tormented  by  longings  for  an  existence 
of  pleasure-seeking  leisure.  Through  the  lips  of  his 
famous  character,  Raphael  de  Valentin,  here  is  what 
he  says  of  himself : 

"  Since  the  age  of  reason  until  the  day  when  I  had 
finished  my  task,  I  observed,  read,  wrote  without 
ceasing,  and  my  life  was  like  a  long  imposition;  an 
effeminate  lover  of  oriental  indolence,  enamoured  of 
my  dreams,  sensual,  I  have  always  worked,  refusing 
to  allow  myself  to  taste  the  joys  of  Parisian  life; 
gourmand,  I  have  been  temperate;  enjoying  move- 
ment and  sea  voyages,  longing  to  visit  other  coun- 
tries, still  finding  pleasure,  like  a  child,  in  making 
ducks  and  drakes  on  the  water,  I  remained  constantly 
seated,  pen  in  hand." 

Taking  into  consideration  facts  like  these,  the  evi- 
dence would  certainly  seem  to  be  in  favour  of  the  view 
that,  in  yielding  to  a  desire  for  idleness,  men  are, 
after  all,  only  following  the  dictate  of  Nature.  But, 
recalling  the  intense  activity,  the  abounding  energy 
[167] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

of  childhood,  recalling  also  the  demonstrable  truth 
that  in  most  cases  even  the  laziest  of  school-boys  has 
had  a  past  characterised  by  the  reverse  of  laziness, 
just  as  he  may  have,  like  Darwin,  Lyell,  and  the  rest, 

jkjjt 

a  future  of  marvellous  accomplishment,  the  mind  must 
once  more  incline  to  the  opposite  belief. 

It  may  be,  and,  as  will  be  shown,  it  undoubtedly  is, 
somewhat  of  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  there  never 
has  been  a  congenitally  lazy  man.  But  to  say  this 
is  far  nearer  £he  truth  than  to  regard  laziness  as 
something  rooted  in  the  constitution  of  our  being,  and 
love  of  activity  as  merely  an  acquired  characteristic. 
On  the  contrary,  the  sharp  contrast  between  the  ac- 
tivity and  energy  of  the  average  child  and  the  idling 
propensities  of  the  average  man,  points  unmistaka- 
bly to  the  development  of  laziness  as  a  parasitic 
growth  interfering  with  the  normal  processes  and 
tendencies  of  gifipFe.  Laziness,  in  other  words,  must 
be  looked  upon  as  essentially  a  pathological  condi- 
tion. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  condemning  the  lazy  man, 
[168] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

as  the  moralists  would,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to 
view  him  as  a  victim  of  disease  and  as  standing  in 
need  of  careful  treatment.  Nature  intended  him  to 
be  vigorous,  forceful,  a  being  of  achievement;  cir- 
cumstances have  made  him  listless,  inert,  responsive 
but  in  feeble  measure  to  the  spur  of  honour,  ambi- 
tion, pride,  love,  or  necessity.  Sometimes,  to  be  sure, 
he  is  contented  with  his  laziness,  and  would  almost 
resent  an  attempt  to  rescue  him  from  it;  more  fre- 
quently he  writhes  in  secret  over  a  defect  which  he 
realises  exposes  him  to  the  contempt  and  ridicule  of 
his  more  virile  fellow-men,  and  renders  his  life  an 
empty,  profitless  existence.  As  one  unhappy  victim 
confessed  in  a  moment  of  extraordinary  self-revela- 
tion: 

"  I  begin,  but  do  not  finish.  When  I  conceive  a 
work,  a  feverish  impatience  seizes  me  to  reach  the 
desired  aim ;  I  should  like  to  attain  it  at  once.  But 
to  accomplish  something,  patient  and  continuous  ef- 
forts are  required.  I  never  accomplish  anything.  .  .  . 
One  dull  day,  in  one  of  the  suburbs,  I  saw  a  large  piece 
[169] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

of  waste  land,  more  covered  with  fragments  of  earth- 
enware than  with  grass.  Three  or  four  houses  had 
been  commenced,  charming  little  dwellings  of  red 
brick  and  white  stone;  the  walls  had  been  there  for 
two  or  three  years,  but  the  floors  and  ceilings  were 
lacking,  the  roofs  had  never  been  tiled,  and  one  could 
see  across  the  ever  wide-open  windows.  My  mind 
is  in  a  similar  condition  —  a  rough  plain  with  several 
pretty  houses,  the  roofs  of  which  will  never  be  fin- 
ished." (The  Fortnightly  Review,  vol.  Ixix,  p.  763.) 

What,  then,  is  the  cause  of  laziness?  How  should 
one  proceed  in  the  attempt  to  cure  it?  Still  more 
important  in  this  complex  and  severely  competitive 
age,  with  its  incessant  demand  for  vigour  and  ef- 
fectiveness of  performance,  what  are  the  preventive 
measures  that  may  be  taken  in  the  interest  alike  of 
the  individual  and  society? 

Only  a  few  years  ago  it  would  have  been  impossi- 
ble to  answer  these  questions  in  any  but  the  vaguest 
and  most  general  way.  It  might  have  been  said  — 
indeed,  it  was  said  —  that  laziness  is  essentially  an 
[170] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

infirmity  of  the  will.  No  statement  could  be  more 
correct,  but  also  none  could  be  more  futile  in  the  ab- 
sence of  any  clear  appreciation  of  the  factors  de- 
termining the  weakness  or  strength  of  one's  will- 
power. For,  as  somebody  has  truly  said,  the  will  is 
not  an  isolated  entity,  absolutely  independent  of, 
and  superior  to,  the  organism  through  which  it  op- 
erates. Having  a  controlling  force,  it  still  is,  to  a 
large  extent,  itself  controlled  by  material  as  well  as 
by  psychical  circumstances,  by  bodily  states  and  by 
the  impressions  the  mind  absorbs  from  the  environ- 
ment. Consequently  the  solution  of  the  problem  of 
laziness  depends  at  bottom  on  the  ascertainment  of 
the  factors  hurtful  to  efficient  willing. 

This  task  quite  recently  has  been  essayed  with  re- 
markable success,  and,  especially  by  a  little  group  of 
French  investigators,  with  immediate  reference  to  the 
problem  presented  by  the  lazy  man.  Laziness  in  all 
its  phases  has  been  studied  with  the  resourcefulness 
and  painstaking  precision  characteristic  of  the  new 
school  of  medical  psychologists,  to  whom  we  are  al- 
[171] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

ready  so  heavily  indebted  for  a  better  understanding 
of  the  mind  of  man  both  in  its  normal  and  its  abnor- 
mal aspects.  And  with  respect  to  laziness  they  have 
likewise  made  some  interesting  and  important  dis- 
coveries. 

What,  in  particular,  they  have  found  is  that  it  is 
usually  associated  with  a  peculiarly  debilitated  con- 
dition of  the  nervous  system  —  an  "  asthenia  " 
marked  by  a  slow  heart-beat,  low  arterial  pressure, 
and  poor  circulation.  The  consequence  of  this  is,  to 
quote  Theodule  Ribot,  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  sci- 
entific study  of  laziness,  that  "  the  brain  shows  not 
so  much  an  indisposition  as  a  real  incapacity  for  con- 
centrating attention,  and  soon,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  its  nourishment  is  at  the  vanishing-point,  be- 
comes exhausted."  A  whole  series  of  idlers,  tested 
scientifically,  were  shown  to  be  suffering  from  this 
asthenic  condition,  which  led  them  instinctively  to 
husband  their  feeble  resources  by  the  simple  expedi- 
ent of  exerting  themselves  no  more  than  was  abso- 
lutely necessary.  Yet  not  a  few  of  them  were  to  all 
[  172  ] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

appearance  healthy  enough,  and,  until  the  medical 
examination  had  been  made,  it  was  difficult  to  credit 
their  well-grounded  complaint  that  they  really  felt 
"  too  tired  to  work,"  and  at  best  could  do  so  "  only 
by  fits  and  starts." 

This  is  not  to  say  that  they  were  all  of  them  "  born 
tired."  Congenitally  weak  many  of  them  may  have 
been;  but  the  more  the  investigators  familiarised 
themselves  with  the  asthenia  of  the  lazy,  the  more  they 
found  reason  for  the  belief  that,  as  a  rule,  it  was  an 
acquired  and  functional  rather  than  an  inborn  and 
organic  weakness,  although  often  initiated  by  local 
troubles  organic  in  nature.  Thus,  studying  laziness 
in  children  attending  school,  it  was  discovered  that 
quite  frequently  their  inertia  is  connected  with  the 
presence  of  adenoid,  or  abnormal  tissue,  growths,  in 
the  cavity  back  of  the  nose.  These  growths,  by 
making  it  extremely  hard  for  the  child  to  breathe 
properly,  deplete  his  vitality  so  that  he  remains  un- 
dersized and  is  quickly  fatigued  by  intellectual  or 
muscular  effort.  The  natural  consequence  is  that 
[173] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

he  becomes  more  or  less  of  an  idler,  bringing  upon 
himself  the  reproaches  and  punishments  of  parents 
and  teachers.  What  he  actually  needs  is  not  scold- 
ings or  whippings  but  a  slight  surgical  operation. 

Often  a  surprising  development  of  both  mental  and 
physical  power  follows  the  removal  of  the  adenoids. 
In  one  case,  reported  by  Professor  Swift,  a  girl  of 
fourteen  grew  three  inches  taller  within  six  months 
after  an  operation  for  adenoids,  and  at  the  same  time 
showed  an  improvement  in  her  school-work  that  con- 
trasted strikingly  with  the  apathy  and  dulness  that 
had  preceded  it.  Another,  three  years  younger, 
grew  six  inches  in  about  four  months,  and  from  being 
a  sad  idler  was  transformed  into  an  unexpectedly  at- 
tractive and  bright  pupil.  A  boy  of  twelve,  back- 
ward both  mentally  and  physically,  likewise  lost  his 
dulness  and  laziness  within  an  astonishingly  short 
time  after  the  impediment  to  his  breathing  had  been 
removed. 

Dental  defects  also  contribute  materially  to  the 
development  of  lazihess  and  -meiital  retardation.    This 
{  174*  ] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF    LAZINESS 

has  been  repeatedly  demonstrated  in  individual  cases, 
and  at  least  one  psychologist  —  Professor  J.  E.  Wal- 
lace Wallin,  of  St.  Louis  —  has  demonstrated  it  in 
the  case  of  a  group  of  children. 

These  children,  twenty-seven  in  number,  were  pu- 
pils in  a  Cleveland  public  school;  they  were  afflicted 
with  tooth-decay  to  a  varying  extent,  and  they  were 
mentally  backward,  being  from  one  to  four  years  re- 
tarded in  their  school-work.  At  Professor  Wallin's' 
direction  their  teeth  and  gums  were  treated,  they 
were  taught  to  use  a  tooth-brush  properly,  and  to 
chew  their  food  thoroughly.  Before  the  dental  treat- 
ment began  they  were  twice  given  five  psychological 
tests,  to  ascertain  their  memory-power,  attention- 
power,  etc. ;  the  same  tests  were  twice  given  to  them 
while  the  treatment  was  under  way ;  and,  six  months 
after  its  termination,  or  just  before  the  close  of  the 
school-year  1910-1911,  the  tests  were  again  given 
twice. 

Comparing  the  results  of  the  different  testings,  a 
progressive  and  remarkable  improvement  was  found. 
[175] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

In  ability  to  memorise,  the  average  improvement  for 
the  group  was  19  per  cent. ;  in  attention  power,  60 
per  cent. ;  in  adding,  35  per  cent. ;  in  ability  to  as- 
sociate words  having  an  opposite  meaning,  129  per 
cent. ;  and  in  general  association  ability,  42  per  cent. 
More  than  this,  and  testifying  incontrovertibly  to  the 
direct  influence  of  the  dental  treatment  in  promoting 
vigour  of  thought,  only  one  of  the  children  failed  of 
promotion,  six  completed  thirty-eight  weeks  of  school- 
work  in  twenty-four  weeks,  and  one  boy  did  two  years' 
work  in  one  year.  Yet  all  of  these  children,  remem- 
ber, had  formerly  been  quite  unable  to  keep  up  with 
the  work  of  their  grades. 

How  explain  this  great  improvement?  Only  on 
the  theory  that,  by  repairing  their  teeth  and  drilling 
them  in  the  rudiments  of  mouth  hygiene,  a  stop  had 
been  put  to  a  disease-process  which  involved  both 
nervous  strain  and  —  through  the  swallowing  of  the 
toxic  products  of  tooth-decay  —  a  poisoning  of  the 
supply  of  blood  to  the  brain,  with  consequent  lessen- 
ing of  the  brain's  ability  to  function  properly. 
[176] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

Eye  trouble,  particularly  in  the  way  of  hyper- 
metropia,  or  far-sightedness,  is  another  frequent 
cause  of  laziness  in  school-children,  and  the  correc- 
tion of  the  defective  vision  often  is  followed  by  a 
marked  access  of  vigour  and  alertness.  In  such 
cases,  however,  the  laziness  is  usually  manifest  only 
in  the  school-room,  the  child  being  active  enough  at 
play,  when  no  strain  is  put  on  the  eyes  comparable 
with  that  occasioned  by  reading. 

To  cite  a  single  instance,  a  little  boy  of  ten  was 
reported  as  being  so  inattentive  at  school  and  so  un- 
interested in  his  work  as  to  yawn  and  become  sleepy 
when  required  to  read.  As  no  amount  of  scolding 
sufficed  to  turn  him  from  his  idle  ways,  and  as  he 
began  to  complain  of  headaches  and  nervousness,  he 
was  finally  taken  to  an  oculist.  To  the  surprise  of 
his  parents,  who  had  always  believed  his  vision  nor- 
mal, he  was  found  to  be  suffering  from  latent  hyper- 
metropia ;  and,  on  being  provided  with  the  proper  eye- 
glasses, he  soon  demonstrated,  by  the  rapidity  with 
which  he  improved  in  his  studies  and  the  interest  he 
[177] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

now  showed  in  them,  that  his  laziness  had  been  de- 
termined by  the  condition  of  his  eyesight.  . 

In  fact,  any  bodily  defect  that  is  of  such  a  char- 
acter as  to  impose  an  excessive  strain  on  the  nervous 
system  tends  to  produce  an  asthenic  condition,  with 
accompanying  apathy  and  indolence.  And,  even 
when  the  local  trouble  is  only  temporary,  its  disap- 
pearance is  not  necessarily  followed,  as  it  was  in  the 
instances  just  narrated,  by  a  return  to  energetic,  ef- 
fective activity.  For,  in  the  meantime,  the  idler  may 
have  acquired  an  unconscious  —  or,  to  be  more  pre- 
cise, a  subconscious  —  belief  that  sustained  exertion 
is  and  always  must  be  beyond  his  powers.  Thus  a 
vicious  circle  is  established,  the  belief  in  his  inca- 
pacity causing  him  to  act  in  such  a  way  as  to  in- 
tensify the  asthenic  state,  and  the  resultant  increased 
feeling  of  debility  operating,  in  its  turn,  to  confirm 
and  strengthen  his  erroneous  belief.  In  other  words, 
he  is  now  suffering  chiefly  from  a  "  fixed  idea,"  and 
his  condition  is  that  of  any  psycho-neurotic  patient. 

On  this  point  all  who  have  made  a  scientific  study 
[178] 


THE    PROBLEM   OF   LAZINESS 

of  laziness  are  in  substantial  agreement.  We  must, 
flatly  affirms  the  pioneei  investigator  Doctor  Maurice 
de  Fleury,  "  take  the  indolent  for  what  they  nearly 
always  are  —  neuropaths ;  and  neurosis  for  what  it 
always  is  —  bad  habits  of  cerebral  activity."  The 
longer  a  man  has  been  an  idler,  the  more  deeply 
rooted,  of  course,  will  be  his  subconscious  conviction 
that  exertion  is  impossible  to  him;  but,  according  to 
de  Fleury  and  other  investigators,  once  this  convic- 
tion is  broken  down,  he  will  find  that  he  can  work,  and 
work  to  good  purpose. 

The  effecting  of  a  cure,  needless  to  say,  is  not  al- 
ways easy.  It  requires  co-operation  on  the  part  of 
the  patient,  and  on  the  physician's  part  intelligent 
and  sympathetic  use  of  both  physiological  and 
psychological  methods  of  treatment.  Hygienic  meas- 
ures must  be  adopted  to  tone  up  the  nervous  system, 
to  improve  the  circulation,  the  digestion,  the  nutri- 
tion —  to  develop,  as  far  as  possible,  a  general  feel- 
ing of  well-being.  The  idler  must  gradually  be 
trained  to  occupy  himself  usefully  —  not,  perhaps. 
[179] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

for  many  hours  at  a  time,  but  for  regular  stated 
periods,  however  short.  And  to  this  end,  the  effort 
has  to  be  made,  from  the  outset,  to  awaken  in  him 
an  absorbing  interest  in  the  attainment  of  some  one 
specific  aim  in  life,  thereby  replacing  his  baneful 
fixed  idea  of  incapacity  for  work  with  the  opposed 
and  beneficial  obsession  of  something  that  he  must 
and  can  accomplish. 

Here  we  come  to  what  is  by  far  the  most  impor- 
tant factor  in  the  cure  of  laziness  —  the  dynamic, 
regenerative  power  of  some  special  interest.1  Even 
your  idler,  enfeebled  by  positive  organic  weakness, 
may  rise  superior  to  himself  and  achieve  marvels,  if 
only  his  enthusiasm  be  sufficiently  aroused  to  a 
definite  end.  It  was  thus,  for  example,  with  Charles 
Darwin. 

When  he  was  a  boy,  as  was  said  above,  Darwin  was 
colossally  lazy.  He  neglected  his  books,  and  spent 

i  It  is  to  the  development  of  some  vital  interest  —  whether 
by  parental  training  or  the  accident  of  a  favourable  environ- 
ment —  that  is  due  the  often  observed  absence  of  laziness  in 
children  that  are  handicapped  by  adenoids,  eye  trouble,  etc. 

[180] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

his  days  roaming  through  the  fields,  gun  in  hand. 
"  You  care  for  nothing  but  shooting,  dogs,  and  rat- 
catching,  and  you  will  be  a  disgrace  to  yourself  and 
all  your  family,"  was  his  father's  bitter  reproof. 
As  he  grew  older,  his  propensity  for  idling  seemed 
only  to  increase.  In  spite  of  this,  hoping  against 
hope  that  he  would  yet  settle  down  to  serious  things, 
his  father  entered  him  at  the  University  of  Glasgow, 
with  the  idea  of  fitting  him  for  the  practice  of  medi- 
cine. "  It  is  no  use,"  the  boy  frankly  avowed,  after 
a  few  months  at  Glasgow ;  "  I  hate  the  work  here,  and 
I  cannot  possibly  be  a  physician."  So  earnest  were 
his  protests  that  he  was  transferred  to  Cambridge 
University,  on  the  understanding  that  he  would  study 
to  be  a  clergyman. 

At  Cambridge,  as  good  fortune  would  have  it,  he 
entered  the  natural  history  class  of  an  eminent  and 
enlightened  scholar,  Professor  Henslow,  who  sent  him 

This  does  not  mean  that  the  parent  should  neglect  to  have 
such  handicaps  removed  as  soon  as  possible;  no  matter  how 
"  interested "  a  child  may  be,  the  correction  of  remediable 
physical  defects  is  of  importance  to  his  welfare  and  progress. 
[181] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

into  the  woods  and  fields  to  make  collections  of  plants 
and  insects.  Free  again  to  roam  under  the  clear 
blue  skies,  but  this  time  with  a  lofty  purpose  set  be- 
fore his  mind,  a  passion  for  achievement  took  posses- 
sion of  him.  The  boy  whom  other  teachers  had  found 
dull  and  lazy  proved  himself,  under  Professor  Hens- 
low's  inspiring  guidance,  a  marvel  of  industry  and 
mental  vigour.  There  was  no  longer  any  thought  of 
the  "  last  resort "  plan  of  putting  him  into  the  min- 
istry. He  would,  he  told  his  delighted  father,  be- 
come a  naturalist,  and  he  would  work  hard. 

And  he  did  work  hard.  Though  his  health  was 
permanently  impaired  by  the  hardships  of  a  voyage 
of  exploration,  so  that  "  for  nearly  forty  years  he 
never  knew  one  day  of  the  health  of  ordinary  men," 
and  "  every  day  succumbed  to  the  exhaustion  brought 
on  by  the  slightest  effort,"  he  nevertheless  found  a 
way  to  work  with  an  effectiveness  few  men  of  normal 
health  have  equalled. 

The  establishment  of  regular  hours  for  work  — 
thus  gradually  forming  a  work  habit  which  itself  con- 
[182] 


stituted  a  sort  of  fixed  idea  contrary  to  the  idea  of 
indolence,  and  the  reinforcement  of  this  work  habit 
by  enthusiastic  preoccupation  with  an  inspiring  theme 
—  such  was  the  secret  of  Charles  Darwin's  mastery 
over  ills  more  serious  than  those  which  have  made 
countless  men  lifelong  idlers.  What  he  did  is  pre- 
cisely what  the  medical  psychologist  of  to-day  pre- 
scribes as  fundamental  in  the  successful  treatment  of 
laziness.  Listen  to  the  wise  Doctor  de  Fleury : 

"  Let  it  be  known  that  it  is  often  possible  in  the 
practice  of  life  to  replace  an  absurd  idea  by  a  good 
fixed  one,  and  to  form  excellent  habits  in  the  place  of 
deplorable  manias.  It  is  precisely  in  doing  this  that 
the  psychological  treatment  of  indolence  consists ; 
it  is  this  patient  work  that  the  doctor  of  misguided 
minds  ought  to  undertake. 

"  To  induce  [a  lazy  person]  to  become  possessed 
of  a  good  fixed  idea,  is  not  a  superhuman  work  for 
those  who  know  how  to  set  about  it.  In  fact,  the 
means  to  be  employed  remind  one  of  a  woman  who 
wishes  to  make  herself  loved. 
[183] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

"  Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  the  means  dictated 
to  her  by  her  infallible  instinct  concerning  love  af- 
fairs. First  of  all,  she  dresses  herself  with  care,  so 
as  to  show  off  her  charms  to  the  full ;  then  she  finds 
opportunities  for  constantly  being  seen,  increases  the 
number  of  meetings ;  her  presence  must  become  habit- 
ual—  in  fact,  necessary;  he  must  suffer  when  she 
is  no  longer  near.  She  kindles  the  flame  of  jealousy, 
to  make  it  understood  that  she  is  an  incomparable 
treasure,  and  that  another  will  grasp  her  if  he  does 
not  stretch  forth  his  arm  in  time. 

"  Imitate  her,  you  who  wish  to  learn  the  marvellous 
art  of  reclaiming  the  indolent.  Help  your  patient 
to  choose  a  work  really  suited  to  his  abilities;  em- 
bellish the  idea  [of  it]  with  all  the  hope  that  it  is 
possible  to  raise  —  self-content,  worldly  importance, 
glory,  and  fortune  to  be  conquered.  Talk  about  it 
without  ceasing;  like  a  Wagnerian  motive,  repeat  it 
again  and  again,  and  soon  you  will  find  that  the  brain 
seizes  the  idea,  and  can  no  longer  exist  without  this 
good  obsession.  Finally,  when  the  idea  becomes  cher- 
[184] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

ished,  when  the  brain  loves  it  as  one  loves  and  desires 
a  woman,  make  it  to  be  understood  that  it  belongs  to 
all,  that  it  is  in  the  air,  that  another,  braver  and  more 
manly,  may  step  in  and  carry  it  off.  .  .  . 

"  Naturally,  it  is  necessary  to  vary  one's  advice 
according  to  the  character  and  profession  of  each 
patient.  I  have  had  the  opportunity  of  treating  — 
for  nervous  affections  and  at  the  same  time  for  indo- 
lence—  men  occupying  the  most  varied  social  posi- 
tions: students,  composers,  military  officers,  men  of 
letters,  lawyers,  financiers,  politicians,  poor  workmen, 
and  idle,  rich  people.  For  each  one  of  them  it  was 
necessary  to  choose  a  ruling  idea,  suited  to  his  occu- 
pation and  in  proportion  to  his  strength." 

Treatment  by  suggestion,  then,  plus  careful  pre- 
liminary physiological,  and  if  necessary  medical, 
treatment  to  ameliorate  the  asthenic  condition  com- 
mon to  idlers  —  that  is  the  proper  course  to  pursue 
in  dealing  with  all  cases  of  laziness.  And  it  is  also 
the  course  to  pursue  in  the  more  important  matter  of 
prevention,  a  matter  which,  as  the  case  of  Charles 
[185] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

Darwin  strikingly  suggests,  rests  chiefly  with  fathers 
and  mothers. 

Everybody  knows  that,  as  things  now  stand,  young 
men  and  women  choose  vocations  in  a  haphazard  way, 
and  too  often  choose  vocations  for  which  Nature  has 
not  intended  them.  What  it  is  equally  important  to 
recognise  is  that  even  when  they  do  happen  to  hit  on 
a  vocation  fitted  to  them,  it  is  only  the  exceptional 
man  or  woman  who  works  anywhere  near  the  limit  of 
his  or  her  capacity.  The  great  majority  fritter 
away  much  of  their  time,  and  may  justly  be  accused 
of  idleness. 

The  surprising  thing  about  this  is  that,  as  has  al- 
ready been  pointed  out,  it  is  seldom  one  sees  anything 
like  real  laziness  in  early  childhood.  What  causes 
the  sharp  contrast  between  the  activity  of  childhood 
and  the  frequent  apathy  of  later  years?  Unfavour- 
able physical  conditions  cannot  be  held  wholly  re- 
sponsible, especially  when  it  is  observed  that  there 
always  are  some  people  who,  like  Darwin,  contrive  to 
work  effectively  despite  serious  physical  shortcom- 
[186] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF    LAZINESS 

ings.  One  must  look  a  little  deeper,  and,  looking 
deeper,  one  finds,  as  medical  psychologists  have  lately 
found,  that  the  trouble  lies  mostly  with  the  parental 
attitude  in  childhood  and  youth. 

Too  many  parents  discourage  the  ceaseless  ques- 
tioning of  their  children,  and  thereby  deaden  that 
great  stimulus  to  effort  —  curiosity.  Too  many  fail 
to  direct  their  children's  thoughts  into  really  worth 
while  channels.  Too  many  daily  give  them  an  ex- 
ample, not  of  industrious  activity,  but  of  half-hearted 
endeavour.  All  this  goes  to  create  in  the  child  habits 
inimical  to  real  work;  and  in  proportion  as  he  is 
afterward,  by  parent  or  teacher,  forced  to  work,  he 
finds  work  burdensome  and  exhausting.  Under  this 
condition,  whether  or  no  he  is  suffering  from  adenoids, 
eye  trouble,  or  any  other  physical  cause  of  nervous 
strain,  he  is  likely  to  develop  the  asthenic  state  of  the 
true  idler,  with  the  result  of  soon  or  late  feeling  that 
sustained  effort  is  beyond  him. 

On  parents,  therefore,  ultimately  rests  the  blame 
for  the  prevalence  of  laziness ;  and  for  its  prevention 
[187] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

we  must  likewise  look  to  parents.  As  a  friend,  a 
prominent  American  medical  psychologist,  once  said 
to  me  emphatically: 

"  There  would  be  far  fewer  lazy  men  in  the  world 
if  parents  only  appreciated  the  possibility  of  so  in- 
fluencing their  children  in  early  youth  as  to  confirm 
them  in  the  tendencies  to  energetic  action  and  fruit- 
ful thinking  which  they  usually  display  in  the  first 
years  of  life.  Instead  of  neglecting  or  repressing 
these  tendencies,  as  so  many  parents  unfortunately 
do,  they  should  encourage  their  children  in  the  active 
use  of  their  minds,  should  train  them  in  habits  of  sys- 
tematic and  effective  thinking,  and  especially,  by  ob- 
serving just  what  aptitudes  they  most  clearly  show, 
should  take  pains  to  cultivate  in  them  an  abiding  in- 
terest in  the  subjects  for  which  they  seem  to  have 
greatest  talent. 

"  If  they  would  only  do  this,  and  would  at  the  same 
time  keep  a  close  watch  for  any  symptoms  of  nerve- 
strain  due  to  organic  or  functional  disturbances,  cor- 
recting these  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  we 
[188] 


THE    PROBLEM    OF   LAZINESS 

should  hear  much  less  than  we  do  now  of  the  indo- 
lence of  the  average  child  of  school  age ;  and  we  cer- 
tainly should  be  taking  a  great  forward  step  in  the 
lessening  of  laziness  among  grown  men  and  women. 
For,  obviously,  a  child  habituated  from  infancy  to 
the  fullest  and  freest  use  of  his  natural  powers,  will 
be  likely  to  continue  thinking  and  acting  energetically 
in  later  life.  In  this,  as  in  everything  else,  the  law 
is  the  same  —  as  the  twig  is  bent,  the  tree's  inclined." 


[189] 


VI 

A  CHAPTER  ON  LAUGHTER 

PICTURE  to  yourself  a  familiar  scene  —  the 
interior  of  a  theatre  crowded  with  people. 
On  the  stage  the  persons  of  the  play  move 
to  and  fro,  speaking  their  lines.  Presently  a  slight 
change  is  made  in  the  current  of  the  dialogue,  and, 
presto!  the  spectators  who  have  been  so  quietly  lis- 
tening and  watching  become  weirdly  agitated.  Their 
features  are  distorted  in  strange  grimaces,  they 
throw  back  their  heads,  and  give  utterance  to  abrupt, 
explosive,  unmelodious  noises.  Even  their  bodies 
take  part  in  the  amazing  commotion. 

Something  "  funny  "  has  just  been  said  by  one  of 
the  actors,  and  those  who  have  heard  it  are  respond- 
ing by  an  outburst  of  "  laughter." 

Recall  likewise  the  equally  familiar  picture  of  a 
huge  circus  tent  with  its  bewildering  array  of  equip- 
[193] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

ment  for  the  performance  of  feats  of  strength  and 
daring,  surrounded  by  tier  upon  tier  of  seats  filled 
with  expectant  holiday-makers.  The  entertainment 
is  about  to  begin ;  from  an  entrance  come  the  blaring 
strains  of  a  brass  band,  and  a  long,  gaily  bedecked 
procession  circles  slowly  before  the  gaping  throng. 
At  the  end  of  the  procession  are  half  a  dozen  men  of 
uncouth  gait  and  bizarre  appearance,  their  faces 
whitened  and  spotted,  queer  conical  caps  on  their 
heads,  and  wearing  enormous,  shapeless  garments  as 
white  and  spotted  as  their  faces. 

These  men  say  nothing  —  they  simply  go  through 
all  sorts  of  foolish  antics.  But  at  the  mere  sight  of 
them  the  same  uproar  of  discordant  sounds  fills  the 
air,  the  spectators,  like  those  of  the  theatre  and  with 
even  greater  vehemence,  uniting  in  a  very  bedlam 
of  guffaws. 

Pass,  finally,  to  the  open  street,  alive  with  men  and 
women  hurrying  to  their  work.  Some  one  has  care- 
lessly dropped  on  the  sidewalk  the  slippery  skin  of 
a  fruit.  The  first  man  to  step  on  it  feels  his  legs 
[194] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

give  way  beneath  him,  strives  frantically  to  keep 
his  balance,  waves  his  arms  about,  and  ends  by  plump- 
ing to  the  ground  with  a  heavy  thud.  At  once  he  is 
beset  by  the  "  smiles  "  and  "  chuckles  "  of  those  who 
have  witnessed!  his  fall;  and,  hurt  and  annoyed,  he 
scrambles  to  his  feet,  gives  himself  a  hasty  brush, 
and  disappears  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

Now,  just  what  is  this  singular  phenomenon  of 
laughter,  so  readily  induced  and  from  such  a  variety 
of  causes?  What  is  there  in  the  words  of  an  actor, 
the  antics  of  a  clown,  or  the  misfortune  of  another 
person,  to  provoke,  under  the  circumstances  men- 
tioned, the  peculiar  reaction  of  bodily  and  facial  con- 
tortion and  inarticulate  vocal  utterance  that,  re- 
garded dispassionately,  seems  almost  repulsive? 
What  useful  purpose  can  be  served  by  such  behaviour, 
such  an  obvious  departure  from  the  well-ordered  ways 
of  the  reasoning  life?  In  a  word,  why  do  we  laugh? 

It  is  a  question  far  more  easily  asked  than  an- 
swered, as  every  one  has  discovered  who  has  really 
pondered  it.  The  answer  that  immediately  comes  to 
[195] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

mind  — "  We  laugh  because  we  are  amused  " —  not 
only  is  hopelessly  inadequate,  but  to  a  large  extent  is 
incorrect.  It  can  readily  be  shown  that  people  some- 
times laugh  in  situations  where  their  mental  state  is 
anything  but  that  of  amusement.  In  one  well-au- 
thenticated instance  a  frontiersman,  on  returning  to 
his  home  and  finding  it  in  ruins,  with  his  wife  and 
children  mutilated  corpses,  began  to  laugh  and  con- 
tinued laughing  until  he  died  from  the  rupture  of  a 
blood-vessel.  In  another  case,  cited  among  the  re- 
sponses to  a  questionnaire  on  laughter  issued  by  that 
well-known  American  psychologist,  President  G. 
Stanley  Hall  of  Clark  University,  a  number  of  young 
people  from  nineteen  to  twenty-four  years  of  age 
were  sitting  together  when  the  death  of  a  friend  was 
announced.  "  They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  sec- 
ond, and  then  all  began  to  laugh,  and  it  was  some 
time  before  they  could  become  serious." 

A  young  woman,  replying  to  the  same  question- 
naire, confessed  that  she  often  laughed  when  hearing 
people  speak  of  the  death  of  their  friends,  "  not  be- 
[196] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

cause  it  is  funny  or  pleases  her,  but  because  she  can- 
not help  it."  Another  young  woman  reported  that 
on  hearing  of  the  death  of  a  former  school-mate  she 
felt  deeply  grieved,  yet  "  laughed  as  heartily  as  she 
had  ever  done  in  her  life,"  and,  in  spite  of  every  ef- 
fort to  control  herself,  "  had  to  break  out  into  a 
laugh  repeatedly."  A  third  "  must  always  laugh 
when  she  hears  of  a  death,  and  has  had  to  leave  the 
church  at  a  funeral  because  she  must  giggle." 

Even  the  shock  of  a  severe  physical  pain  is  known 
to  provoke  occasionally,  not  tears  but  laughter.  "  A 
young  man,"  says  C.  G.  Lange,  "  whom  I  was  treat- 
ing with  a  powerful  caustic  for  an  ulceration  of  the 
tongue,  invariably,  at  the  moment  when  the  pain  was 
at  its  highest,  was  attacked  by  a  violent  outburst  of 
laughter." 

One  has  only  to  think  also  of  the  laughter  caused 
by  tickling  to  realise  that  it  is  not  always  true  to  say 
that  we  laugh  because  we  are  amused.  And  when  it 
is  true,  this  answer,  instead  of  solving  the  problem 
of  laughter,  merely  raises  it  in  another  form,  since 
[197] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

it  then  becomes  necessary  to  explain  why  we  are 
amused  by  the  sayings  and  happenings  at  which  we 
laugh.  Most  students  of  laughter  have  indeed  felt 
that  the  important  thing  to  do  is  to  determine 
the  nature  of  the  laughable,  a  task  itself  of  consid- 
erable difficulty  and  leading  to  the  most  diverse  con- 
clusions in  the  numerous  explanatory  formulas  which 
have  been  advanced  from  time  to  time,  but  which, 
when  closely  scrutinised,  are  chiefly  noteworthy  for 
their  incompleteness. 

To  mention  only  a  few  of  the  theories  of  the  comic 
finding  place  in  psychological  works,  it  is  affirmed 
by  some  authorities  that  the  essence  of  the  laughable 
is  that  it  induces  a  sudden  sense  of  superiority  in  the 
person  moved  to  laughter.  This  is  the  "  sudden 
glory  "  theory  of  Thomas  Hobbes,  and  in  support 
of  it  is  cited  more  especially  the  familiar  fact  that 
nobody  likes  to  be  laughed  at.  It  also  finds  support 
in  the  undoubted  feeling  of  contempt  which  so  often 
accompanies  the  laughter  provoked  by  the  buf- 
fooneries of  a  mountebank,  the  dialogue  and  action 
[198] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

of  a  farce  comedy,  and  the  so-called  "  comic  pic- 
tures "  now  to  be  found  in  such  lamentable  profusion 
in  many  of  our  newspapers.  In  some  slight  degree, 
too,  there  may  be  a  "  sudden  glory  "  in  the  laughter 
at  the  awkwardness  and  groundless  fears  of  a  child, 
or  at  his  nai've  remarks,  and  in  the  laughter  occa- 
sioned by  mischances  to  other  people.  But  certainly 
there  is  much  that  is  laughable  —  notably  the  kindly 
banter  between  friends  —  that  cannot  reasonably  be 
said  to  engender  any  feeling  of  superiority.  And, 
more  than  this,  we  are  all  of  us,  every  day  of  our 
lives,  witnessing  things  that  do  suddenly  arouse  in 
us  a  lively  feeling  of  superiority,  but  without  moving 
us  to  laughter  —  moving  us,  rather,  to  pity  and  per- 
haps tears. 

Even  as  amended  by  the  psychologist  Bain,  the 
"  sudden  glory  "  theory  remains  inadequate.  Bain 
defines  "  the  occasion  of  the  ludicrous "  as  "  the 
degradation  of  some  person  or  interest  possessing 
dignity  in  circumstances  that  excite  no  other  strong 
emotion."  This  is  a  decided  improvement,  because  it 
[199] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

clearly  recognises  that  the  laughable  must  be  devoid 
of  elements  awakening  counteracting  emotions.  But 
it  is  open  to  the  criticism  that  laughter  is  frequently 
excited  by  objects  and  occurrences  in  which,  unless 
the  imagination  be  severely  wrenched,  it  is  impossible 
to  assume  'that  ideas  of  degradation  are  dominant  or 
even  operant. 

When,  for  example,  we  laugh  at  the  spectacle  of  a 
child  half  hidden  in  his  grandfather's  hat,  what  do 
we  think  of  as  degraded?  Is  it  the  child,  the  hat,  or 
the  absent  grandfather?  In  such  an  instance  can 
the  idea  of  degradation  properly  be  said  to  enter  at 
all?  So,  likewise,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  pres- 
ence of  any  idea  either  of  degradation  or  superiority 
in  the  ringing  laughter  of  a  child  at  his  puppy's 
gambols  or  at  the  frisking  of  his  kitten.  And  how 
explain  on  such  a  principle  the  laughter  at  non- 
malicious  witticism? 

Appreciating  the  inapplicability  of  the  Hobbesian 
doctrine  in  any  form  as  explanatory  of  all  sources 
of  laughter,  other  investigators  have  emphasised  the 
[200] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

principle  of  contrast  and  incongruity,  but  to  scarcely 
more  satisfactory  effect.  "  Laughter,"  says  Her- 
bert Spencer,  "  naturally  results  only  when  con- 
sciousness is  unawares  transferred  from  great  things 
to  small  —  when  there  is  what  we  call  a  descending 
incongruity."  The  manifest  insufficiency  of  this 
theory  is  avoided  in  the  more  extensive  one,  to  which 
Darwin  inclines,  defining  the  laughable  as  that  which 
is  queer,  unusual,  disagreeing  with  or  contrary  to 
our  mental  habits  or  the  normal  order  of  affairs. 
Assuredly  there  is  almost  always  an  element  of  queer- 
ness  in  the  things  at  which  we  laugh.  Yet  it  is  also 
certain  that  the  queer  does  not  always  make  us 
laugh.  As  Camille  Melinaud  has  pointed  out : 

"  There  are  things  contrary  to  the  normal  order 
that  have  nothing  ludicrous  about  them;  and  if  the 
view  were  true  that  queerness  is  the  laughable  ele- 
ment, those  things  that  are  strangest  and  most  un- 
usual should  be  the  ones  most  certain  by  their  very 
nature  to  excite  laughter.  But  we  do  not  laugh  at 
the  dancing  horses,  the  jumping  pigs,  the  musicians 
[201] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

playing  on  bottles,  of  the  circus,  all  of  which  are 
most  contradictory  of  what  we  are  accustomed  to. 
If  we  laugh  at  the  circus,  it  is  at  the  accessory  jokes 
and  incidents  in  the  detail.  A  conjurer's  tricks, 
seemingly  contradictory  as  they  are  of  all  our  ex- 
periences and  notions,  do  not  make  us  laugh.  We 
laugh  at  his  jokes  and  his  funny  ways  of  proceed- 
ing, but  we  wonder  at  his  tricks."  (Popular  Science 
Monthly,  vol.  liii,  p.  398.) 

Melinaud's  own  view,  oddly  enough,  is  about  as 
unconvincing  as  any  that  has  ever  been  formulated, 
for,  while  laying  stress  on  the  principle  of  incon- 
gruity, he  insists  that  laughter  comes  only  when  the 
laugher,  "  by  a  rapid  process  of  thought,"  submits 
the  object  of  his  mirth  to  a  reflective  analysis  and 
arrives  at  the  laugh-provoking  conclusion  that  what 
seems  absurd  is  really  quite  natural  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  person  or  thing  laughed  at.  Then, 
and  not  until  then,  do  we  feel  amused.  On  such  a 
theory  one  might  well  wonder  that  children  ever  find 
it  possible  to  laugh,  and  that  laughter  is  so  prev- 
[202] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

alent  among  adults  who  are  not  accustomed  to 
any  very  high  degree  of  logical  thinking. 

Altogether  different  from  any  of  the  foregoing  is 
the  more  recent  theory  of  the  French  philosopher, 
Henri  Bergson,  as  presented  in  a  special  treatise  on 
laughter,  of  which  an  excellent  translation  by  C. 
Brereton  and  F.  Rothwell  has  lately  been  published 
in  this  country.  Bergson  recognises,  as  not  every 
investigator  has  done,  the  essentially  spontaneous 
character  of  laughter,  and  he  insists  with  Darwin  on 
postulating  queerness  as  an  indispensable  element  in 
the  laughable.  But,  as  he  sees  it,  the  queerness  must 
be  of  a  specific  sort  in  order  to  excite'  laughter  — 
must  consist,  in  fine,  in  an  automatic  inelasticity, 
whether  of  form,  action,  or  thought,  which  is  in  sharp 
contrast  to  the  wonted  mobility  of  life.  It  is  our 
immediate  recognition  of  this  automatism  and 
rigidity  that  moves  us  to  laughter. 

When,  Bergson  affirms,  we  laugh  at  a  man  who 
stumbles  and  falls  in  the  street,  our  laughter  is 
caused,  not  by  his  sudden  change  of  attitude,  but  by 
[203] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  involuntary  element  in  this  change.  "  Perhaps 
there  was  a  stone  on  the  road.  He  should  have  al- 
tered his  pace  or  avoided  the  obstacle.  Instead  of 
that,  through  lack  of  elasticity,  through  absent- 
mindedness  and  a  kind  of  physical  obstinacy  -*—  as  a 
result,  in  fact,  of  rigidity  or  of  momentum  —  the 
muscles  continued  to  perform  the  same  movement 
when  the  circumstances  of  the  case  called  for  some- 
thing else.  That  is  the  reason  of  the  man's  fall, 
and  also  of  the  people's  laughter."  So  with  our 
laughter  at  the  appearance  and  horseplay  of  a  clown. 
We  laugh  at  his  painted  face  because  we  immediately 
recognise  in  it  "  something  mechanical  encrusted 
upon  the  living,"  and  we  laugh  at  his  antics  because 
of  their  automatic,  machine-like  character. 

In  fact,  "  We  laugh  every  time  a  person  gives  us 
the  impression  of  being  a  thing.  We  laugh  at 
Sancho  Panza  tumbled  into  a  bed-quilt  and  tossed 
into  the  air  like  a  foot-ball.  We  laugh  at  Baron 
Munchausen  turned  into  a  cannon-ball  and  travelling 
through  space."  In  laughter  caused  by  puns,  jests, 
[204] 


A    CHAPTER    ON   LAUGHTER 

and  witticisms,  the  same  principles  of  automatism 
and  inelasticity  obtain,  though  of  course  in  much 
subtler  form.  Analyse  closely  all  varieties  of  the 
comic  and  you  always  get  back  to  the  basic  idea  of 
"  something  mechanical  in  something  living."  Or, 
Bergson  concludes,  "  The  comic  is  that  side  of  a  per- 
son which  reveals  his  likeness  to  a  thing,  that  aspect 
of  human  events  which,  through  its  peculiar  in- 
elasticity, conveys  the  impression  of  pure  mechanism, 
of  automatism,  of  movement  without  life." 

Really  to  appreciate  both  the  plausibility  and  the 
shortcomings  of  this  novel  theory  of  the  laughable 
one  must  read  Professor  Bergson's  book.  It  is  there 
elaborated  so  ingeniously  that  one  finds  it  difficult  to 
give  instances  of  the  comic  to  which  it  cannot  in  some 
way  be  applied.  Even  the  laughter  of  children  at 
the  bobbing  up  of  their  jack-in-the-box,  the  fall  of 
their  house  of  cards,  or  the  tail-chasing  gyrations  of 
their  kitten,  may  conceivably  be  explained  on  the 
assumption  that  what  the  children  laugh  at  is  the 
automatic  character  of  the  bobbing,  the  falling,  and 
[205] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  whirling.  On  the  other  hand,  these  very  ex- 
amples irresistibly  suggest  that  the  Bergsonian  ex- 
planation is,  after  all,  rather  strained  and  far- 
fetched, and  that,  in  common  with  its  less  thorough- 
going predecessors,  it  overlooks  the  elusive  some- 
thing fundamental  to  the  laughable.  This  impres- 
sion is  deepened  when  we  recall  the  extent  to  which 
automatism,  rigidity,  inelasticity,  prevail  in  the  af- 
fairs of  men  without  exciting  so  much  as  a  smile. 

"  The  attitudes,  gestures,  and  movements  of  the 
human  body,"  says  Professor  Bergson,  in  stating  one 
of  his  many  subsidiary  laws  of  the  comic,  "  are 
laughable  in  exact  proportion  as  that  body  reminds 
us  of  a  mere  machine."  Why,  then,  do  we  not  laugh 
when  we  observe  the  machine-like  precision  with 
which  a  company  of  soldiers  march  on  parade  or  ex- 
ecute the  evolutions  of  drill?  Surely  one  could  not 
find  a  better  example  of  "  something  mechanical  in 
something  living."  And,  again,  "  any  arrangement 
of  acts  and  events  is  comic  which  gives  us,  in  a  single 
combination,  the  illusion  of  life  and  the  distinct  im- 
[206] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

pression  of  a  mechanical  arrangement."  The  bob- 
bing of  the  jack-in-the-box  meets  this  formula,  and 
we  do  laugh  at  the  jack-in-the-box.  But  it  is 
met  equally  well  by  the  strangely  lifelike  movements 
of  such  devices  as  the  automatic  chess-player  and  the 
type-setting  machine,  yet  these  do  not  ordinarily 
elicit  any  appreciable  manifestation  of  mirth. 

It  is,  however,  when  we  turn  to  Bergson's  deduc- 
tions from  his  theory  of  the  comic  that  we  are  most 
strongly  impelled  to  question  its  soundness.  Em- 
phasising as  he  does  the  element  of  automatism  in  the 
laughable,  he  logically  enough  infers  that  the  func- 
tion of  laughter  is  to  serve  as  a  social  corrective. 
"  The  rigid,  the  ready-made,  the  mechanical,  in  con- 
trast with  the  supple,  the  ever-changing,  and  the  liv- 
ing, absent-mindedness  in  contrast  with  attention, 
in  a  word,  automatism  in  contrast  with  free  activity, 
such  are  the  defects  that  laughter  singles  out  and 
would  fain  correct."  We  laugh,  that  is  to  say,  only 
at  imperfections  in  our  fellow-men,  or  at  things  which 
remind  us  of  imperfections,  and  the  reason  we  laugh 
[207] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

is  that,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  we  wish  to  call 
attention  to  them  by  way  of,  in  Bergson's  own  words, 
"  a  kind  of  social  ragging." 

Stated  thus  baldly,  the  underlying  defect  of  such 
an  explanation  of  laughter  becomes  plainly  appar- 
ent.1 What  has  happened  is  that  its  author  has 
read  into  the  phenomenon  of  laughter  a  meaning  ap- 
plicable only  under  special  circumstances.  If  it  were 
true  that  we  laugh  only  at  what  is  imperfect  and 
therefore  ugly,  however  attenuated  in  ugliness,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  understand  the  well-nigh  uni- 
versal eagerness  for  laughter;  an  eagerness  which  has 
led  mankind  to  reward  lavishly,  even  extravagantly, 
those  who  make  it  their  business  to  provide  occasions 
for  laughter  —  the  writers  of  farces  and  comedies, 
the  fun-making  actors  and  clowns,  the  producers  of 

i  Since  these  lines  were  written  Doctor  Boris  Sidis,  in  his 
"  Psychology  of  Laughter,"  has  criticised  the  Bergson  theory 
in  more  detail  but  on  somewhat  different  grounds.  Doctor 
Sidis's  own  theory,  briefly,  is  that  the  laughable  is  not  the 
"  mechanical "  but  the  "  stupid."  Or,  as  he  himself  expresses 
it,  "  Allusion  to  human  stupidity  is  at  the  root  of  all 
comic." 

[208] 


"  comic  pictures."  The  egregious  falsity  of  this 
"  deformity  "  theory,  as  it  may  fairly  be  called,  be- 
comes still  more  manifest  when  we  endeavour  to  ap- 
ply it  to  account  for  the  laughter  of  childhood,  the 
period  of  life  when  laughter  is  most  free  and  ex- 
uberant, but  precisely  when  it  is  incredible  to  as- 
sume that  it  is  motivated  by  any  corrective  impulse, 
conscious  or  otherwise. 

To  tell  the  truth,  the  attempt  to  reach  a  wholly 
satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem  of  laughter  by 
striving  to  define  the  characteristics  of  the  laughable 
seems  foredoomed  to  failure.  For,  after  all,  the 
laughable  must  always  remain  a  more  or  less  uncer- 
tain quantity,  if  only  for  the  reason  that,  as  shown 
by  facts  of  everyday  observation,  what  makes  one 
person  laugh  may  not  be  in  the  least  laugh-provoking 
to  another.  Yet  everybody,  or  almost  everybody, 
does  laugh  to  some  extent,  and  therefore  the  proper 
point  of  approach  would  rather  seem  to  be  through 
a  study  of  the  act  of  laughter  itself  and  of  its  con- 
sequences with  regard,  not  to  the  person  or  thing  or 
[209] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

phrase  laughed  at,  but  to  the  person  doing  the  laugh- 
ing. 

Attacking  the  problem  from  this  altogether  dif- 
ferent angle,  one  is  soon  in  a  position  to  discern  sev- 
eral facts  of  real  helpfulness  in  an  explanatory  way. 
By  no  means  the  least  important  is  the  extreme  ex- 
uberance of  laughter  in  childhood,  to  which  reference 
has  just  been  made.  Once  the  child  has  begun  to 
laugh  —  usually  during  the  fourth  or  fifth  month 
after  birth,  although  occasional  outbursts  of  a 
shadowy  sort  of  laughter  have  been  observed  before 
the  fourth  month  —  it  laughs  with  a  truly  amazing 
spontaneity  and  frequency.  There  seems  to  be  noth- 
ing which  may  not  become  an  object  of  laughter  to  a 
child,  and,  more  than  this,  in  direct  contradiction  to 
all  theories  postulating  a  reflective  element  at  the 
bottom  of  every  laugh,  as  often  as  not  the  laughter 
of  childhood  is  conspicuously  devoid  of  such  an  ele- 
ment. 

For  example,  to  cite  a  few  observations  from  the 
record  of  a  lady,  Miss  Milicent  Shinn,  whose  pains- 
[210] 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

taking  study  of  the  infancy  of  her  niece  Ruth  is 
among  the  most  stimulating  of  contributions  to  the 
modern  science  of  child  psychology,  it  appears  that 
toward  the  end  of  the  fifth  month  this  little  girl 
"  habitually  laughed  with  glee  when  any  one  smiled 
or  spoke  to  her."  And  when,  two  months  later,  she 
was  taken  into  the  open  and  allowed  to  roll  about  on 
a  quilt,  "  the  wooing  of  the  passing  freshness,  the 
play  of  sun  and  shadow,  the  large  stir  of  life  in 
moving  and  sounding  things,  all  this  possessed  her 
and  made  her  *  laugh  and  ejaculate  with  pleasure.' ' 
Also,  like  almost  every  child  of  her  age,  little  Ruth 
would  be  moved  to  hilarious  mirth  by  being  given  a 
ride  on  somebody's  foot,  or  tossed  and  jumped  about 
in  one's  arms.  Laughter,  again,  followed  the  suc- 
cessful accomplishment  of  any  intellectual  or  mus- 
cular feat,  such  as  pointing  out  pictures  she  had  been 
asked  to  identify,  climbing  stairs,  or  deliberately  let- 
ting herself  fall  "  so  as  to  come  down  sitting  with  a 
thud." 

The  same  tendency  to  excessive,  even  seemingly 
[211] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

causeless  laughter  in  the  opening  years  of  life  has 
been  noted  by  other  close  students  of  the  emotions 
and  their  expression.  Some  have  attempted,  with 
the  usual  futile  results,  to  explain  it  by  an  analysis 
of  the  things  at  which  the  child  laughs.  Others, 
more  cautiously  and  more  accurately,  content  them- 
selves with  describing  it  as  a  means  whereby  Nature 
provides  a  salutary  outlet  for  surplus  nervous 
energy. 

It  is  undoubtedly  this.  Ask  any  child  who  has 
learned  to  talk  —  or,  better,  ask  a  grown  person  who 
has  retained  to  a  marked  degree  the  faculty  for 
hearty  laughter  —  and  the  chances  are  you  will  be 
told  that,  while  in  any  given  instance  the  laugher 
may  be  far  from  clear  as  to  why  he  has  laughed,  he 
does  know  that  the  involuntary  movements  of  the 
laughter  to  which  he  yielded  were  preceded  by  pecul- 
iarly compelling  sensations,  variously  expressed  in 
such  phrases  as,  "  I  had  to  laugh  or  burst,"  "  I  had  to 
do  something  to  relieve  the  strain,"  "  I  felt  bubbling 


A   CHAPTER    ON   LAUGHTER 

over,"  "  I  felt  a  quiver,  a  thrill,  a  creepy  feeling  pass- 
ing from  my  stomach  to  my  mouth." 

That  is  to  say,  the  evidence  from  the  abounding 
laughter  of  childhood  —  pre-eminently  a  period  of 
rapid  physical  growth  and  of  the  accumulation  of  a 
large  store  of  nervous  energy  —  as  also  the  evidence 
from  the  laughter  of  unusually  mirthful  adults,  who 
are,  as  a  rule,  persons  of  large  build  and  of  corre- 
sponding nervous  force,  suggests  irresistibly  the  con- 
ception of  laughter  as  an  instinct  implanted  in  us  for 
the  performance  of  an  important  physiological  func- 
tion. This  view  finds  additional  support  in  the 
familiar  "  giggling  silliness  "  of  the  adolescent  period, 
that  strange  period  of  unusual  growth  and  stress, 
and  the  one  in  which  are  most  likely  to  occur  those 
singular  attacks  of  untimely  hilarity  at  funerals  and 
on  other  solemn  occasions,  as  mentioned  among  the 
responses  to  President  Hall's  questionnaire.  No 
more  than  the  little  child  or  your  friend  the  jolly 
man  does  the  adolescent  always  know  at  what  he  is 
[213] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND   PARENTHOOD 

laughing.  He  simply  knows  that  he  is  impelled  to 
laugh  by  forces  latent  in  his  being  and  over  which 
he  has  no  control. 

Nor  is  it  only  as  a  relief  from  neural  tension  that 
laughter  benefits  the  one  who  laughs.  In  the  studies 
of  laughter  in  childhood  made  by  such  investigators 
as  Preyer,  Sully,  and  Miss  Shinn,  one  finds  frequent 
allusion  to  occasions  when  laughter  is  obviously  a 
reaction  from  a  state  of  mental  strain,  and  has  a 
specifically  useful  effect  in  easing  the  mind.  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  this  is  actually  one  of  its 
constant  ends  —  that  it  is  a  device  for  lightening  the 
burden  of  mentation  by  temporary  interruption  of 
the  thought  process. 

As  all  educators  are  well  aware,  the  first  years  of 
life  and  the  adolescent  period  are  not  only  the  years 
of  greatest  physical  growth,  but  the  years  when  the 
severest  demands  are  made  on  the  mind,  both  by  the 
task  of  acquiring  knowledge  and  by  the  perturbations 
of  adolescence.  They  are  the  years  when  the  mind, 
in  its  immaturity,  is  most  in  need  of  some  protective 
[214] 

* 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

mechanism  to  enable  it  automatically  and  at  frequent 
intervals  to  take  a  holiday  as  it  were.  Such  a  mech- 
anism is  admirably  provided  in  laughter,  which,  as 
every  laugher  will  at  once  appreciate,  when  not  un- 
duly prolonged  leaves  behind  it  a  pleasurable  feeling 
of  exhilaration  and  greater  mental  as  well  as  physical 
well-being. 

We  laugh,  then,  in  infancy  and  adolescence,  not 
primarily  because  we  are  "  light-hearted "  or 
"  amused,"  but  to  satisfy  a  natural  instinct  of  both 
physiological  and  psychological  utility.  We  laugh 
less  in  maturity,  partly  because  we  have  not,  as  a 
rule,  the  same  necessity  of  getting  rid  of  surplus 
nervous  energy,  partly  because  our  minds  have  passed 
the  tender  formative  age,  and  partly  because  widen- 
ing experience  has  developed  sentiments  and  ideas 
tending  to  inhibit  laughter.  Nevertheless  we  do  still 
need  to  a  certain  extent  the  relief  which  laughter 
brings ;  we  feel  in  some  degree  the  old  hunger  for  it, 
and  consequently,  often  at  very  slight  provocation, 
we  yield,  and  even  cultivate  opportunities  for  yield- 
[215] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

ing,  to  the  impulse  which  was  so  conspicuously 
operant  in  the  years  of  our  youth.  As  with  every 
instinct,  moreover,  the  laughing  process  may,  and 
occasionally  does,  become  perverted,  as  in  the  laugh- 
ter of  cynicism  and  contempt,  and  in  the  abnormal 
laughter  of  the  overwrought  —  itself,  however,  the 
modern  medical  psychologist  assures  us,  a  medium  of 
relief  from  an  unbearable  strain. 

As  to  the  things  at  which  we  commonly  laugh  — 
the  "  laughable "  whose  nature  has  so  perplexed 
philosophers  —  all  that  may  safely  be  said  is  that 
their  laugh-provoking  power  depends  not  so  much 
on  an  inherent  "  comicality  "  as  on  the  circumstances 
under  which  they  occur  to  us,  and  our  point  of  view 
toward  them  as  determined  by  previous  training 
and  experience.  Certainly,  for  instance,  we  cannot 
laugh  at  a  subtle  bit  of  wit  until  we  have  had  educa- 
tion in  the  appreciation  of  the  skilful  use  of  language. 
The  instincts  of  imitation  and  of  sympathy,  further, 
have  a  share  in  determining  on  many  an  occasion  the 
functioning  of  the  laughing  instinct.  Time  and 
[  216  ] 

• 


A    CHAPTER    ON    LAUGHTER 

again  we  laugh  merely  because  we  see  other  people 
laughing.  Personally  I  am  inclined  to  think  also 
that  much  at  which  we  laugh  as  adults  is  laughable 
to  us  only  by  reason  of  subconscious  association  with 
similar  occurrences  which  chanced  to  move  us  to 
laughter  in  our  childhood.  But  on  this  point  noth- 
ing positive  should  be  asserted  pending  psychological 
investigation  which  has  yet  to  be  made. 

Conceding,  however,  that  the  laughable  is  and  must 
always  remain  elusive,  baffling,  uncertain,  there  need 
be  no  uncertainty  as  to  our  view  of  laughter  itself. 
To  laugh  —  to  laugh  spontaneously  and  heartily  — 
is  under  nearly  every  circumstance  a  good  thing  both 
for  the  body  and  for  the  mind.  Like  sleep,  it  refreshes ; 
like  food,  it  strengthens.  Humanity  in  truth  would 
be  the  poorer  —  and  the  shorter-lived  —  were  it  ever 
to  lose  this  splendid  heritage  of  the  power  to  laugh. 

This  is  why  I  have  said  so  much  about  laughter  in 

the  present  book.     To  parents  in  especial  knowledge 

of  its  true  significance  is  important.     They  will  not 

then  fall  into  the  mistake,  too  often  made  at  present, 

[217] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

of  curbing  their  children's  instinctive  tendency  to 
laugh.  Rather,  they  should  deliberately  seek  to  cul- 
tivate in  them  a  keen  sense  of  humour,  and  encourage 
them  in  merriment  —  not  because  it  is  a  thing  pleas- 
ing in  itself,  but  because  of  its  positive  developmental 
value.  Directly  or  indirectly  to  repress  this  basic 
instinct  is  always  dangerous,  leading1  to  warpings  of 
character,  and  at  times  undoubtedly  contributing  to 
the  causation  of  that  strangest  and  most  misunder- 
stood of  human  maladies,  hysteria,  to  which  we  must 
now  give  some  consideration. 


[218] 


HYSTERIA  IN  CHILDHOOD 


VII 


A  LITTLE    girl,    a   pupil    in    a    German 
school,  made  her  appearance  in  class 
one  morning  with  a  bandage  about  her 
head.     In  answer  to  her  teacher's  questions,  she  said 
she  had  been  operated  upon  for  ear  trouble  at  a  local 
hospital  the  day  before.     She  described  every  detail 
of  the  operation,  which,  it  seemed,  had  been  exceed- 
ingly painful. 

For  some  time  she  wore  the  bandage  to  school 
every  day,  and  frequently  complained  that  her  ear 
was  still  troubling  her.  Her  teacher  was  properly 
sympathetic,  and,  chancing  to  meet  one  of  the  girl's 
relatives,  expressed  her  anxiety  for  the  child,  and  the 
hope  that  she  would  soon  be  completely  cured. 

"  Cured? "  repeated  the  relative.  "  Cured  of 
what?" 

[221] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

"  Why,  her  ear  trouble  —  the  disease  that  has 
made  it  necessary  for  her  to  keep  her  head  bandaged." 

"  But,"  said  the  other,  obviously  puzzled,  "  I  do 
not  understand  you.  I  did  not  know  she  had  any 
ear  trouble,  and  I  have  never  seen  her  with  a  band- 
age." 

It  was  the  teacher's  turn  to  be  astonished.  She 
could  not  believe  that  the  girl  had  been  deceiving  her ; 
but,  to  get  at  the  truth,  she  decided  to  take  her  im- 
mediately to  the  hospital  where  the  operation  was 
supposed  to  have  been  performed.  There  the  child 
made  her  way  about  as  if  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
place,  and  greeted  in  a  friendly  manner  the  surgeon 
in  charge.  He,  however,  did  not  seem  to  recognise 
her,  and  when  told  the  circumstances  by  the  teacher, 
said: 

"  I  can  assure  you  I  have  never  operated  upon  this 
girl." 

He  then  made  a  thorough  examination  of  her  ear, 
and  found  it  to  be  quite  sound.  After  which,  careful 
investigation  developed  the  fact  that  her  sole  knowl- 
[228] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

edge  of  the  hospital  was  derived  from  detailed  in- 
formation given  her  by  a  friend,  a  lady  who,  curiously 
enough,  had  been  operated  upon  a  little  while  previ- 
ously for  precisely  the  trouble  that  the  girl  had  at- 
tributed to  herself. 

In  other  words,  no  doubt  remained  that  she  had 
for  weeks  been  acting  a  lie,  from  what  motive  neither 
her  teacher  nor  her  parents  could  fathom. 

Again,  a  clergyman  writing  to  the  Society  for 
Psychical  Research  from  a  little  English  village 
named  Ham,  urgently  requested  the  despatch  of  a 
skilled  investigator  to  look  into  certain  strange  oc- 
currences in  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Turner.  This  house, 
the  clergyman  asserted,  was  haunted  by  a  "  veritable 
ghost,"  which  amused  itself  by  playing  all  sorts  of 
mischievous  and  annoying  pranks. 

Remaining  invisible,  it  hurled  boots,  shoes,  and 
other  small  objects  through  the  air,  upset  chairs  and 
tables,  and  on  at  least  one  occasion  it  had  pitched 
the  family  cat  into  the  fire.  All  this  was  done,  ac- 
cording to  both  the  clergyman  and  several  other  in- 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

telligent  eye-witnesses,  under  circumstances  that  ren- 
dered it  impossible  that  the  "  manifestations  "  could 
be  the  work  of  any  human  agency. 

"  No  one  can  explain  it,"  the  clergyman  declared. 
"  It  is  quite  a  mystery,  and  is  causing  great  excite- 
ment through  the  countryside." 

The  task  of  laying  this  "  poltergeist,"  or  trouble- 
some ghost,  was  assigned  to  Mr.  Ernest  Westlake, 
an  able  psychical  researcher.  Proceeding  to  Ham, 
he  found  that  the  Turner  family  consisted  of  Mr. 
Turner,  his  wife,  one  son,  and  a  deformed  little 
daughter,  Polly,  not  quite  twelve  years  old.  So  im- 
pressed was  he  with  what  he  heard  that  his  first  report 
indicated  a  belief  that  the  phenomena  witnessed  might 
be  genuine  evidences  of  some  mysterious  and  unknown 
force.  But,  after  a  few  hours  of  watchful  scrutiny, 
he  sent  word  that  "  the  Ham  ghost  is  a  humbug  now, 
whatever  it  may  have  been."  In  detail  Mr.  West- 
lake  afterward  added: 

"  After  posting  my  first  letter,  I  went'  to  the 
Turners'  and  sat  on  a  bench  in  front  of  the  fire. 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

No  one  else  was  present  besides  the  child.  She  sat  on 
a  low  stool  in  the  chimney  on  the  right  of  the  fire. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  hearth  there  was  a  brick  oven 
in  which,  much  to  Polly's  interest,  I  placed  a  dish  of 
flour,  arguing  that  a  power  capable  of  discharging 
the  contents  of  the  oven  (one  of  the  first  disturb- 
ances) might  be  able  to  impress  the  flour.  After  a 
time  I  went  to  the  oven  to  see  how  the  flour  was  get- 
ting on,  stooping  slightly  to  look  in ;  but  I  kept  my 
eye  on  the  child's  hands,  looking  at  them  under  my 
right  arm.  I  saw  her  hand  stealing  down  toward  a 
stick  that  was  projecting  from  the  fire;  I  moved 
slightly,  and  the  hand  was  withdrawn.  Next  time  I 
was  careful  to  make  no  movement,  and  saw  her  hand 
jerk  the  brand  out  on  to  the  floor.  She  cried  out. 
I  expressed  interest  and  astonishment;  and  her 
mother  came  in  and  cleared  up  the  debris. 

"  This  was  repeated  several  times,  and  one  or  two 

large  sticks  ready  for  burning,  which  stood  near  the 

child,  was   thrown  down.     Then   a  kettle  that  was 

hanging  on  a  hook  and  chain  was  jerked  off  the  hook 

[225] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

on  to  the  coals.  This  was  repeated.  As  the  kettle 
refused  to  stay  on  its  hook,  the  mother  placed  it  on 
the  hearth;  but  it  was  soon  overturned  on  to  the 
floor.  After  this,  I  was  sitting  on  the  bench  that 
stood  facing  the  fire  in  front  of  the  table.  I  had 
placed  my  hat  on  the  table  behind  me.  The  little 
girl  was  standing  near  me  on  my  right  hand.  Pres- 
ently the  hat  was  thrown  down  on  to  the  ground.  I 
did  not  on  the  first  occasion  see  the  girl's  movements ; 
but  later,  by  seeming  to  look  in  another  direction,  I 
saw  her  hand  sweep  the  hat  off  on  to  the  floor.  This 
I  saw  at  least  twice.  A  Windsor  chair  near  the  girl 
was  then  upset  more  than  once,  falling  away  from 
her.  On  one  occasion  I  saw  her  push  the  chair  over 
with  both  hands.  As  she  was  looking  away  from  me, 
I  got  a  nearly  complete  view.  After  one  of  these 
performances,  the  mother  came  in  and  asked  the  child 
if  she  had  done  it;  but  the  latter  denied  it."  (Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research,  vol. 
xii.) 

Unquestionably,   Mr.   Westlake  concluded,  Polly 


HYSTERIA   IN    CHILDHOOD 

was  the  "  ghost."  Yet  he  found  it  difficult  to  con- 
jecture why  she  should  have  assumed  so  singular  a 
role.  Neither  she  nor  her  parents  —  whom  he  ex- 
onerated from  all  complicity  —  had  profited  a 
penny's  worth  from  her  exploits.  Indeed,  her  par- 
ents had  been  put  out  of  pocket  by  the  damage  to  the 
household  furniture  and  utensils. 

Consider,  also,  the  case  of  a  little  Chicago  boy  who 
had  fallen  out  of  a  play-wagon  and  hurt  one  of  his 
arms.  The  injury  was  in  reality  very  slight;  but 
his  mother,  becoming  greatly  alarmed,  declared  her 
belief  that  the  doctor  would  say  the  arm  was  broken. 
What  the  doctor  —  D'Orsay  Hecht,  of  Northwestern 
University  Medical  School  —  did  say  was  that  a  few 
applications  of  witch-hazel  would  speedily  remedy 
matters. 

The  mother,  nevertheless,  insisted  on  bandaging 
the  arm,  talked  of  having  an  X-ray  examination,  and 
broadly  hinted  that  a  wrong  diagnosis  had  been  made. 
Within  a  few  days,  as  Doctor  Hecht  had  expected, 
all  signs  of  injury  disappeared.  But  now  the  boy 
[227] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

complained  that  the  hand  of  the  injured  arm  felt 
stiff;  and,  in  a  day  or  so,  his  mother  reported  that 
both  hand  and  arm  were  paralysed. 

This  was  the  situation  when,  passing  along  the 
street  one  day,  Doctor  Hecht  was  astonished  and 
amused  to  see  his  "  paralysed  "  patient  romping  with 
a  number  of  children,  quite  as  if  nothing  were  the 
matter  with  him.  He  used  his  injured  arm  freely, 
pushed  and  pulled  his  playmates,  and  was  pushed  and 
pulled  around  by  them. 

"  Ah,"  thought  the  physician,  with  a  feeling  of  re- 
lief, "evidently  this  youngstei  is  going  to  give  no 
more  trouble." 

He  was  mistaken.  Within  a  week  the  mother  sent 
for  him,  reporting  that  her  boy  was  suffering  agonies, 
that  he  could  not  eat,  and  that  his  arm  had  become 
contracted  at  the  elbow.  In  fact,  on  visiting  the  boy 
he  found  that  at  every  attempt  to  flex  the  arm  the 
little  fellow  screamed  with  pain. 

But  on  his  next  visit,  when  the  child  chanced  to  be 
asleep,  Doctor  Hecht  noticed  that  there  was  then  no 
[228] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

contracture  of  the  arm,  and  that  he  could  move  it 
without  disturbing  the  boy  in  the  slightest.  So  soon, 
however,  as  he  awoke,  the  contracture  returned,  and 
he  wailed  and  shrieked  when  his  arm  was  touched. 
To  the  astonished  mother,  the  doctor  said: 

"  I  see  what  the  trouble  is.  Your  son  needs  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  treatment  that  I  can  administer  only  at 
my  office.  Bring  him  there  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  treatment  in  question  consisted  in  the  appli- 
cation of  a  succession  of  slight  electrical  shocks,  just 
painful  enough  to  be  felt.  These,  the  doctor  assured 
the  boy,  would  cure  him  completely. 

"  If  they  do  not,"  said  he,  "  your  mother  must 
bring  you  back,  and  I  will  give  you  a  stronger  treat- 
ment next  time.  I  don't  think,  though,  that  that 
will  be  necessary,  do  you?  " 

And,  in  point  of  fact,  no  second  treatment  was 
needed.  From  that  moment  the  boy  ceased  complain- 
ing of  his  arm,  the  contracture  and  paralysis  entirely 
disappeared,  and  he  was  like  any  normal,  healthy 
child. 

[229] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

I  have  cited  these  three  cases,  not  because  of  their 
singularity,  but  because  they  afford  concrete  illus- 
tration of  some  little  known  facts  with  which  every 
parent  ought  to  be  acquainted.  In  each  case,  it  will 
be  observed,  an  element  of  deception  was  present; 
and,  moreover,  in  each  case  the  deception  was  seem- 
ingly motiveless.  The  child  who  pretended  that  she 
had  been  operated  upon  had  apparently  nothing  to 
gain  from  the  deceit  practised  by  her;  neither  had 
the  little  girl  who  played  the  part  of  a  "  poltergeist," 
nor  the  boy  with  the  sham  contracture  and  paralysis. 
Besides  which,  in  two  of  the  three  cases  the  children 
subjected  themselves  to  considerable  inconvenience 
and  even  pain;  and,  in  all  three  cases,  they  ran  the 
risk  of  severe  punishment.  None  the  less,  they  sys- 
tematically and  persistently  kept  up  their  deceptions 
until  discovery  ensued. 

Now,  why  did  they  do  it  ? 

They  did  it,  as  recent  medical  and  psychological 
investigation  into  the  inner  life  of  childhood  has  con- 
clusively demonstrated,  because  they  were  so  consti- 
[230] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

tuted  that  they  could  not  help  doing  it.  And  for  the 
same  reason,  hundreds  —  nay,  thousands  —  of  chil- 
dren, before  and  since,  have  been  doing  much  the 
same  thing.  It  is  not  that  they  are  merely 
"  naughty."  The  ordinary  naughty  child  will,  to  be 
sure,  lie  and  cheat  and  otherwise  deceive;  but  only 
from  readily  ascertainable  motives,  and  never  in  the 
way  of  an  elaborately  sustained  deception.  When  a 
child's  "  naughtiness  "  takes  this  latter  form,  medical 
authorities  are  to-day  agreed,  it  is  in  reality  indica- 
tive of  the  presence  of  a  really  serious  disease  — 
hysteria. 

Than  this  disease  —  of  which  most  people,  unfor- 
tunately, have  next  to  no  exact  knowledge,  mistak- 
enly confusing  it  with,  and  confining  it  to,  uncon- 
trollable attacks  of  weeping  or  laughing  —  there  is 
no  malady  more  insidious,  peculiar,  or  dangerous  in 
the  variety  of  its  possible  consequences.  Its  pe- 
culiarity lies  in  the  fact  —  discovered  only  within 
recent  years  —  that  it  is  always  rooted  in  an  extreme 
"  suggestibility  "  on  the  part  of  its  victims ;  and  that 
[231] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

the  symptoms  it  develops  are  invariably  conditioned 
by  the  character  of  the  suggestions  received  from  the 
environment.  Hysteria  is,  to  put  the  case  briefly, 
pre-eminently  a  mental  trouble;  and  this  although, 
not  infrequently,  its  only  outward  manifestations  are 
wholly  physical. 

A  child  with  a  hysterical  tendency  —  that  is  to 
say,  an  unusually  sensitive,  impressionable  child,  of 
undisciplined  will,  and  quickly  overwhelmed  by  what- 
ever it  sees,  hears,  or  feels  —  is  always  liable,  when 
brought  into  contact  with  a  person  suffering  from 
any  serious  ailment  of  picturesque  symptomatology, 
to  manifest  in  some  degree  the  symptoms  of  that  par- 
ticular ailment.  Or,  more  commonly,  such  a  child 
may  manifest  grave  physical  disabilities  simply  as  a 
result  of  hearing  or  reading  about  them. 

It  does  not  do  this  voluntarily;  there  is  no  con- 
scious intention  to  deceive;  for  the  matter  of  that, 
the  child  itself  is  as  much  deceived  as  are  its  parents 
and  friends.  The  trouble  is  that  in  its  state  of  ab- 
normal suggestibility,  it  is  irresistibly  impelled  by 
[232] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

the  strange  power  of  self-suggestion  to  imitate  the 
symptoms  of  disease. 

Or,  instead  of  simulating  disease  symptoms,  a  hys- 
terical child  may  enter  on  a  course  of  seemingly  de- 
liberate chicanery  like  that  practised  by  little  "  pol- 
tergeist "  Polly  Turner,  whose  case  is  typical  of  a 
species  of  behaviour  indulged  in  by  hysterical  chil- 
dren in  all  countries  and  all  ages.  Here,  likewise, 
abnormal  suggestibility  is  in  evidence,  the  resultant 
hysterical  manifestations  differing  only  because  the 
suggestions  received  and  acted  on  are  different. 

In  cases  like  Polly  Turner's,  it  has  been  found, 
the  hysterical  child  usually  lives  with  people  more  or 
less  superstitious  and  credulous.  They  are  people 
inclined  to  attribute  to  some  spiritistic  agency  any 
occurrence  they  cannot  easily  explain.  In  this  en- 
vironment the  child  gradually  becomes  obsessed  — 
though  quite  unconsciously  —  with  a  desire  to  pro- 
vide "  marvels  "  for  their  edification  and  mystifica- 
tion, and,  yielding  to  the  desire,  is  soon  in  full  career 
as  a  "  poltergeist,"  the  hysterical  obsession  becoming 
[233] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

intensified  in  proportion  as  the  gullibility  of  those 
deceived  increases,  and  also  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  attention  paid  to  the  little  deceiver. 

For  —  and  this  is  a  point  to  be  borne  well  in  mind 
—  it  is  not  alone  abnormal  suggestibility  that  charac- 
terises the  hysterical  child.  There  is  also  present  an 
abnormal  craving  to  attract  attention,  to  be  a  centre 
of  interest.  Of  this  craving,  as  of  the  deceits  carried 
out  to  attain  its  realisation,  the  child  itself  is  uncon- 
scious. But  it  may  be  stated  with  assurance  that  it 
invariably  exists  as  a  concomitant  of  hysteria.  Or- 
dinarily it  is  the  family  and  intimate  friends  whose 
interest  and  sympathy  the  child  wishes  to  arouse, 
though  this  is  not  always  the  case.  There  may  be 
special  reasons  for  desiring  to  impress  mere  acquaint- 
ances, or  even  absolute  strangers.  Then  we  have  the 
odd  spectacle  of  children,  like  the  pupil  in  the  German 
school,  whose  hysterical  obsessions  appear  chiefly  or 
only  in  the  presence  of  outsiders,  while  the  parents 
remain  in  partial  or  total  ignorance  of  them. 

And,  speaking  of  this  type  of  hysteria,  I  may  say 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

that  I  am  acquainted  with  a  young  New  York  woman 
who,  since  the  age  of  fifteen,  has  led  many  an  unsus- 
pecting physician  a  merry  dance  by  reason  of  her  ex- 
traordinary hysterical  simulations.  In  early  girl- 
hood she  began  to  complain  of  various  ailments,  which 
on  examination  proved  to  be  of  no  moment.  Not 
unnaturally  her  family  lost  patience  with  her 
"  whims,"  as  they  called  them,  and  regarded  her  as 
a  wholly  imaginary  invalid.  Like  most  people  simi- 
larly situated,  they  utterly  failed  to  appreciate  that, 
as  has  been  well  said  by  Doctor  Pierre  Janet,  one  of 
the  world's  foremost  authorities  on  hysteria,  "  When 
a  person,  is  so  ill  that  he  says  he  is  ill  when  he  is  not 
ill  at  all,  then  he  must  be  very  ill  indeed."  They 
scolded  the  girl,  they  argued  with  her ;  but  they  made 
no  attempt  to  give  her  the  treatment  she  really 
needed. 

What  was  the  consequence?     One  day  she  mys- 
teriously  disappeared   from   home,   and   some  time 
passed  before  she  was  located  in  a  hospital,  where 
preparations  were  making  to  perform  an  operation 
[235] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

upon  her  for  appendicitis.  A  little  later  she  wan- 
dered off  again,  and  turned  up  at  another  hospital 
with  symptoms  so  closely  resembling  a  tumorous 
growth  that  a  diagnosis  to  that  effect  was  made,  and 
an  immediate  operation  advised.  Still  later  an  emi- 
nent specialist  was  misled  into  crediting  her  with  a 
serious  spinal  disease. 

After  this  it  was  decided  that  she  was  insane,  and 
the  family  had  her  committed  to  an  asylum.  Before 
her  release  she  developed  symptom?  of  ear  trouble  so 
pronounced  that  the  dangerous  mastoid  operation 
would  have  been  performed  had  not  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  asylum  been  informed  of  her  previous  ad- 
ventures as  a  hospital  visitant. 

Manifestly,  a  disease  that  both  impels  and  enables 
its  victims  to  mimic  the  symptoms  of  grave  organic 
affections,  with  such  verisimilitude  as  to  deceive  even 
physicians,  is  an  extremely  serious  affair.  And  one 
has  only  to  inquire  of  doctors  with  an  extensive  hos- 
pital experience  to  learn  that  hysteria,  in  one  form 
or  another,  is  a  widespread  trouble  among  both  chil- 
£236] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

dren  and  adults.  But  it  is  no  longer  the  bugbear  of 
the  medical  profession  that  it  used  to  be.  Follow- 
ing the  discovery  of  its  essentially  mental  character, 
methods  have  been  devised  and  perfected  for  handling 
it.  Some  of  these  seem  absurdly  simple,  but  even 
the  simplest  have  been  proved  efficacious,  especially  in 
the  case  of  children.  Differing  in  detail,  they  have 
one  feature  in  common.  They  directly  attack  the 
hysterical  symptoms  by  the  employment  of  the  same 
agency  that  was  provocative  of  them  —  namely,  sug- 
gestion. 

In  the  case  of  the  boy  with  the  pseudo  paralysis, 
reported  above,  it  was  not  any  therapeutic  virtue  in- 
herent in  the  electrical  treatment  that  brought  about 
his  rapid  restoration  to  health.  It  was  simply  the 
suggestive  efficacy  of  the  way  in  which  the  treatment 
was  administered  to  him.  The  truth  of  this,  how- 
ever, may  be  made  clearer  by  the  citation  of  one  or 
two  other  cases,  that  are  also  of  interest  as  illustrat- 
ing the  ingenious  devices  by  which  hysterical  attacks 
in  the  period  of  childhood  are  nowadays  overcome. 
[237] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

There  was  brought  to  a  New  England  neurologist 
a  little  girl  of  ten,  suffering  from  a  curious  physical 
abnormality.  As  long  as  she  was  seated,  there 
seemed  to  be  little  the  matter  with  her;  but  the  mo- 
ment she  attempted  to  stand  her  feet  bent  under  her 
so  that  they  would  not  support  her  weight.  When 
left  alone  she  swayed  backward  and  forward,  and  then 
fell  on  her  hands  and  knees.  In  addition  to  this, 
there  was  a  complete  paralysis  of  the  left  arm,  the 
child  thus  being  deprived  of  the  use  of  three  of  her 
four  limbs. 

Questioned  by  the  physician,  her  mother  explained 
that  these  muscular  troubles  had  first  set  in  six 
months  before,  following  an  attack  of  measles,  and 
that  her  condition  had  grown  progressively  worse. 
This  pointed  to  an  organic  and  incurable  malady; 
and,  indeed,  the  mother  was  firmly  convinced  that 
nothing  could  be  done.  But,  on  making  some  deli- 
cate diagnostic  tests,  no  signs  of  true  organic  trouble 
were  to  be  found;  whereas  there  were  some  indica- 
tions that  the  disability  might  be  wholly  functional, 
[238] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

the  result  of  hysteria.  In  verification  of  his  sus- 
picion the  physician  made  a  few  experiments  which 
proved  that  the  child  was  extremely  suggestible. 
Turning  to  her  mother,  he  said : 

"  You  are  quite  wrong  in  'supposing  that  your 
daughter  cannot  be  cured.  She  is  ill,  it  is  true ;  but 
her  illness  is  of  such  a  nature  that  it  will  quickly  re- 
spond to  the  right  kind  of  treatment." 

"  But,"  protested  the  mother,  incredulous,  "  she 
cannot  use  her  legs,  she  cannot  move  her  arm." 

"  No  matter.  I  have  something  here  that  will  en- 
able her  to  use  her  legs  and  move  her  arm." 

He  took  up  a  large  magnet  and  showed  it  to  the 
little  girl.  She  watched  him  with  the  keenest  interest, 
while  he  used  it  to  lift  several  pieces  of  iron. 

"  Now  look,"  said  he. 

Holding  it  over  his  left  hand,  he  slowly  raised  that 
hand  until  it  touched  the  magnet,  pretending  that  it 
had  been  drawn  up  exactly  as  the  pieces  of  iron  had 
been. 

"  You  see  the  power  of  this  instrument,"  he  said, 
[239] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

to  the  wondering  child.  "It  can  move  your  arm, 
and  give  strength  to  your  legs  and  feet,  in  the  very 
same  way." 

For  three  weeks  the  magnet  was  applied  to  the  dif- 
ferent muscles,  with  the  suggestion  that  the  limbs 
would  thereby  regain  their  power.  Nine  treatments 
in  all  were  given.  After  the  ninth  treatment  the  girl 
walked  into  the  doctor's  office  unaided. 

"  Yesterday,"  her  mother  explained,  "  she  told  me 
that  she  thought  her  arm  felt  better,  and  she  found 
that  she  could  raise  it.  Then  she  said  she  believed 
she  could  walk ;  and,  getting  out  of  bed,  she  crossed 
the  room  without  the  least  assistance;  and  without 
her  feet  clubbing  under  her.  Can  it  be,  Doctor,  that 
she  is  cured?  " 

In  fact,  she  was  cured;  although,  of  course,  the 
magnet  itself  had  had  no  power  to  cure  her,  but  was 
used  merely  as  an  agent  for  an  efficient  "  counter- 
suggestion  "  to  dislodge  and  uproot  the  symptom- 
producing  suggestions  in  the  girl's  own  mind. 

Excellent  results  have  also  been  obtained  in  many 
[240] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

cases  of  hysterical  paralysis  among  children  by  the 
use  of  what  is  known  as  the  "  method  of  surprise," 
the  invention  of  a  German  specialist  named  Bruns. 
As  employed  by  Doctor  Bruns  and  his  followers,  this 
method  has  undoubtedly  a  certain  aspect  of  brutal- 
ity; but  this  is  more  than  compensated  by  its  effec- 
tiveness. Having  determined,  by  a  searching  medical 
examination,  that  the  paralysis  in  any  given  case  is 
functional  and  not  organic,  what  Bruns  does  is  to 
place  the  paralysed  child  in  a  bath-tub,  turn  on  the 
cold  water  faucet,  and  watch  the  youngster  climb  out 
and  scamper  off. 

"  You  see,"  he  then  says  to  him,  at  this  psychologi- 
cal moment,  "  you  can  walk  very  well,  after  all.  Now 
let  us  hear  no  more  from  you  about  being  unable  to 
walk." 

If  for  any  reason  he  deems  the  bath-tub  device  in- 
advisable, his  plan  is  to  put  the  child  to  bed,  keep  it 
entirely  isolated,  and  deprive  it  of  all  food  for  a  day 
or  so.  An  appetising  meal  is  then  brought  into  the 
room,  and  left  some  distance  from  the  child's  bed. 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

Frequently  this  is  all  that  is  needed  to  effect  a  cure. 
The  suggestion  of  food  overcoming  the  suggestion  of 
paralysis,  the  child  gets  out  of  bed  and  starts  across 
the  room,  being  encountered  midway  by  Bruns,  who  — 
of  course  by  accident  —  enters  the  room  at  that  pre- 
cise instant,  and  makes  use  of  verbal  suggestion  to 
reinforce  and  maintain  the  "  miraculous  "  recovery. 

In  contrast  with  this  method  of  surprise  is  the 
"  method  of  disregard,"  also  originated  by  Bruns  and 
used  by  him  in  cases  of  hysteria  other  than  those  in- 
volving muscular  paralysis  —  cases,  for  example,  of 
obsessions,  facial  "  tics,"  spasms,  or  convulsive  seiz- 
ures. In  employing  the  method  of  disregard  the  lit- 
tle patient  is  carefully  watched  by  doctor  and  nurses 
but  in  such  a  manner  that  he  is  led  to  believe  they 
are  paying  scarcely  any  attention  to  him.  As  a  re- 
sult the  idea  that,  despite  his  own  conviction,  his 
malady  must  be  most  insignificant,  gradually  takes 
increasing  possession  of  him,  and  in  proportion  as  it 
does  so  the  hysterical  symptoms  disappear. 

But,  the  reader  may  ask,  does  this  truly  mean  that 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

the  hysteria  itself  has  been  cured?  Do  not  these 
methods,  one  and  all,  achieve  merely  the  removal  of 
symptoms?  Is  not  the  child  still  suggestible  enough 
to  develop  a  new  variety  of  hysterical  disturbances 
should  occasion  arise? 

Such  objections  are  not  without  force,  though  in 
practice  it  has  been  observed  that  the  cure  of  the 
symptoms  by  suggestion  does  actually  seem  to  weaken 
the  tendency  to  future  hysterical  outbreaks  of  any 
kind.  To  be  on  the  safe  side,  however,  it  is  always 
well  to  institute  environmental  changes  of  a  sort  that 
will  make  for  a  constantly  closer  approach  by  the 
child  to  a  normal  life. 

With  this,  we  come  to  the  point  that  is  of  supreme 
interest  to  parents. 

Almost  without  exception  it  is  in  the  home  that  the 
seeds  are  sown  which  may  afterward  bear  the  bitter 
fruit  of  hysteria,  whether  bearing  it  in  childhood  or 
not  until  some  critical  period  comes  in  later  years. 
It  is  the  child  who  is  "  spoiled,"  or  kept  by  unwise 
parents  in  a  state  of  nervous  tension  and  excitement ; 
£243] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

the  child  whose  sense  of  moral  responsibility  is  not 
properly  developed,  and  whose  natural  suggestibility 
is  unduly  heightened  by  the  superstitions,  fears,  and 
eccentricities  of  its  elders ;  it  is  such  a  child  who, 
soon  or  late,  may  be  counted  on  to  manifest  some 
hysterical  taint,  perhaps  not  of  the  extreme  type 
illustrated  by  the  cases  narrated  above,  but  never- 
theless of  a  sort  making  against  happiness,  useful- 
ness, and  success  in  the  world  of  active  effort.  Or,  to 
state  the  situation  in  more  detail  in  the  words  of  a 
physician  of  my  acquaintance: 

"  Hysterical  children,  it  has  been  my  observation, 
usually  have  neurotic  parents.  At  first  I  was  dis- 
posed to  see  in  this  another  evidence  of  the  dread 
workings  of  heredity.  But  I  am  now  inclined  to  the 
belief  that  it  illustrates  rather  the  influence  of  en- 
vironment. All  children,  as  you  know,  are  highly 
imitative.  They  tend  to  copy,  with  exaggerations, 
whatever  models  are  placed  before  them,  and  instinct- 
ively they  take  their  parents  as  their  chief  models. 
If,  then,  the  parents  are  flighty,  excitable,  passing 
[  244  ] 


HYSTERIA    IN    CHILDHOOD 

rapidly  from  extreme  to  extreme  of  mood,  it  is  only 
natural  that  the  children  should  be  likewise.  Their 
minds  undisciplined,  their  will-power  undeveloped, 
they  easily  fall  a  prey  to  the  baneful,  hysteria-pro- 
ducing suggestions  of  their  unhealthy  surroundings. 

"  To  make  matters  worse,  there  is  often,  even 
among  well-educated  persons,  an  amazing  disregard 
of  the  hygienic  and  dietetic  requirements  for  neural 
stability.  Children  are  allowed  to  sit  up  to  unrea- 
sonable hours ;  they  are  permitted  altogether  too  fre- 
quent attendance  at  parties,  theatres,  moving-pic- 
ture shows,  and  similar  places  of  entertainment, 
where  they  receive  impressions  too  vivid  and  varied 
for  them  to  absorb  easily.  Then,  too,  there  is  a  tend- 
ency to  give  them  at  their  meals  an  undue  allowance 
of  meat,  and  to  permit  them  to  drink  tea,  coffee,  and 
other  stimulants  making  for  nerve  disturbance. 

"  All  the  while  they  are  living  in  an  atmosphere  of 
parental  uneasiness  and  unrest.  Their  mothers  — 
and  perhaps  their  fathers  also  —  fuss  and  fume  over 
them.  They  delight,  it  may  be,  in  *  showing  them 
off '  to  admiring  visitors,  thus  suggesting  to  the 
[245] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

already  over-impressionable  little  ones  undue  ideas  of 
their  own  importance.  Presently  signs  of  trouble 
appear  —  restless  sleep,  '  night  terrors,'  facial 
'  tics,'  possibly  even  full-blown  attacks  of  hysterical 
convulsions,  paralysis,  deafness,  or  what  not  —  and 
the  neurologist  has  another  patient  on  his  hands." 

Surely  the  duty  of  parents  is  plain.  To  set  before 
their  children  from  earliest  infancy  examples  of 
placidity  and  strength  of  character,  to  educate  their 
will  no  less  than  their  intellect,  to  guard  them  as  far 
as  possible  from  all  harmful  suggestions,  to  love  them 
without  idolising  them,  to  study  carefully  their  physi- 
cal as  well  as  their  mental  and  moral  needs  —  in  this 
way,  and  in  this  way  alone,  can  safety  be  had  against 
the  dread  evil  of  hysteria  and  allied  nervous  troubles. 
Especially  is  such  a  course  indispensable  in  view  of 
the  now  well-demonstrated  fact  that  a  faulty  up- 
bringing may  be  primarily  responsible  for  mental  and 
nervous  maladies,  not  of  childhood  but  of  adult  life, 
and  of  a  character  to  challenge  the  utmost  skill  of 
the  best  trained  physicians.  Of  this,  more  in  our 
next  chapter. 

[246] 


THE  MENACE  OF  FEAR 


VIII  < 

THE  MENACE  OF  FEAR 

I  HAVE  no  intention  of  describing  the  ordinary, 
familiar  phenomena  of  fear.  These,  in  both 
their  psychological  and  physiological  manifes- 
tations, will  be  found  adequately  treated  in  any  good 
text-book  on  the  emotions.  What  I  wish  to  do, 
rather,  is  to  call  attention  to  some  little-known  facts 
which  find  scant  mention  in  the  text-books  for  the 
excellent  reason  that  it  is  only  within  the  past  few 
years  that  they  have  been  made  part  of  organised 
knowledge.  Yet  they  are  facts  of  the  utmost  sig- 
nificance from  both  a  theoretical  and  a  practical  point 
of  view ;  and,  indeed,  an  understanding  of  them  is  of 
no  less  importance  to  the  layman  than  to  the  sci- 
entist. Their  discovery  has  made  possible  for  the 
first  time  what  may  be  called  an  applied  psychology  of 
fear  —  that  is  to  say,  a  statement  of  principles  the 
[249] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

application  of  which  will  go  far  toward  solving  the 
problem  of  how  to  avert  the  evil  consequences  of  fear 
without  the  loss  of  its  really  beneficial  qualities. 

That  there  is  a  certain  virtue  in  fear  requires  no 
scientific  demonstration.  Fear,  as  everybody  ought 
to  be  aware,  is  intrinsically  one  of  the  most  useful 
of  emotions.  It  is  an  instinct  implanted  in  us  as  a 
prime  aid  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Doubtless 
for  this  reason  it  is,  as  compared  with  the  other  emo- 
tions, the  earliest  to  make  its  appearance  in  the  new- 
born child.  Preyer,  whose  book,  "  The  Mind  of  the 
Child,"  is  not  nearly  so  well  known  in  this  country 
as  it  should  be,  puts  the  first  manifestation  of  fear 
in  an  infant  at  the  twenty-third  day  after  birth. 
Other  observers,  including  Charles  Darwin,  have 
found  no  indications  of  it  until  somewhat  later  than 
this.  But  all  agree  that  it  is  the  first  emotion,  prop- 
erly so  called,  to  show  itself,  and  that  its  normal 
function  is  to  instil  caution  and  prudence  in  relation 
to  objects  and  actions  that  might  have  destructive 
effects. 

[250] 


THE    MENACE    OF    FEAR 

The  trouble  is  that  fear  has  a  great  tendency  to 
function  to  excess,  especially  in  the  years  of  child- 
hood, that  formative  period  which  means  so  much  to 
future  development.  There  is  scarcely  one  of  us 
who,  looking  back,  cannot  recall  some  youthful  fear, 
abnormal  in  its  intensity.  Nor  are  such  abnormal 
fears  confined  to  the  young.  With  many  people  they 
persist  in  one  form  or  another  throughout  life;  it 
may  be  as  fear  of  thunder,  fear  of  mice,  fear  of 
snakes.  Moreover,  they  sometimes  do  not  appear 
with  full  force  until  the  period  of  youth  is  long  past. 
At  the  age  of  thirty  or  forty  —  at  any  age  —  there 
may  develop,  with  irresistible  power,  and  seemingly 
for  no  reason,  a  paralysing,  appalling  fear  of  doing 
some  trivial,  every-day  act,  or  of  coming  into  con- 
tact with  some  familiar  and  entirely  harmless  object. 
When  fear  becomes  as  extreme  as  this  it  amounts  to 
a  disease,  and 'is  recognised  as  such  by  the  medical 
profession,  being  technically  known  as  a  "  phobia." 
It  is  through  scientific  study  of  these  phobias,  as 
recently  carried  out  by  medical  specialists  with  a 
[251] 


psychological  training,  that  full  realisation  has  been 
gained  of  the  tremendous  role  played  by  fear  in  the 
life  of  man,  and  the  need  for  its  proper  control  and 
direction. 

The  two  commonest  phobias  are  direct  opposites 
of  one  another  —  namely,  fear  of  open  places  (agora- 
phobia) and  fear  of  being  in  a  closed  place  (claustro- 
phobia). The  victim  of  agoraphobia  can  with  diffi- 
culty be  persuaded  to  trust  himself  outdoors.  He 
fears  that  if  he  goes  out  some  catastrophe  will  over- 
whelm him.  His  state  of  mind  is  one  of  absolute 
panic,  and  when  obliged  to  cross  any  open  space, 
such  as  a  public  park,  he  displays  all  the  symptoms 
of  extreme  fear.  The  person  troubled  with  abnormal 
fear  of  closed  places  experiences  no  difficulty  of  this 
sort.  He  is,  on  the  contrary,  never  so  happy  as  when 
in  the  open.  His  troubles  begin  when  he  is  asked  to 
take,  say,  a  drive  in  a  cab  or  a  journey  in  a  railway 
car.  He  dare  not  attend  the  theatre,  or  any  indoor 
public  entertainment.  Whence  comes  his  aversion 
from  closed  places  he  cannot  say.  He  only  knows 


that  the  mere  thought  of  being  in  any  place  from 
which  he  cannot  escape  at  a  moment's  notice  fills  him 
with  a  torturing  dread. 

In  accounting  for  phobias  like  these  psychologists 
have,  as  a  usual  thing,  fallen  back  on  pure  theory, 
and  —  especially  when  strongly  influenced  by  the  evo- 
lutionary doctrine  —  have  been  wont  to  attribute 
them  to  the  emergence  of  ancestral  traits  and  in- 
stincts once  of  real  biological  value.  But  recent  in- 
vestigation has  made  it  certain  that  this  ancestral 
revival  theory  is  both  superfluous  and  erroneous,  and 
tends  to  hinder  rather  than  help  an  understanding  of 
the  mechanism  and  consequences  of  fear.  For  one 
thing,  there  is  the  fact  that  agoraphobia  and 
claustrophobia  are  not  the  only  irrational  fears. 
There  may  be  a  phobia  for  any  conceivable  act  or 
object,  and  to  explain  all  these  in  terms  of  the  re- 
vival of  ancestral  instincts  is  surely  beyond  the  power 
of  the  most  vivid  scientific  imagination.  Further 
than  this,  so  far  as  abnormal  fear  of  open  or  closed 
spaces  is  concerned,  the  researches  of  the  medical 
[253] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

specialists  have  rendered  possible  a  satisfactory  ex- 
planation —  and  an  explanation  that  has  much  prac- 
tical value  —  without  harking  back  to  the  feelings 
and  doings  of  primitive  man. 

It  has  been  found  in  every  case  scientifically  studied 
that  there  is  indeed  a  memory  revival  of  past  ex- 
periences, but  that  it  is  invariably  a  revival  of  ex- 
periences in  the  life  of  the  victim  himself,  not  of  his 
remote  ancestors.  This  is  true  of  every  kind  of 
phobia.  The  sufferer  may  honestly  declare  his  ina- 
bility to  recall  any  antecedent  happening  of  a  fear- 
inducing  character.  But  it  is  found  that,  subcon- 
sciously at  any  rate,  he  always  carries  with  him  a 
vivid  memory-image  of  some  occurrence  that  at  the 
time  shocked  him  greatly ;  and  that  his  phobia  is  due 
to  the  ceaseless  presentation  in  his  subconsciousness 
of  this  vivid  memory-image.  In  proof  of  which  may 
be  cited  the  experiences  of  any  medical  man  accus- 
tomed, in  treating  patients  for  nervous  and  mental 
troubles,  to  make  use  of  modern  methods  —  hyp- 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

notism,  hynoidisation,  and  so  forth  —  for  exploring 
the  obscurer  workings  of  the  human  mind. 

Take,  by  way  of  illustration,  a  case  of  abnormal 
fear  of  open  places  successfully  treated  by  Doctor 
Isador  H.  Coriat,  a  Boston  neurologist  of  my  ac- 
quaintance. The  patient  was  a  young  man  who  for 
nearly  two  years  had  been  tormented  by  an  irrational 
fear  of  fields,  parks,  and  public  squares.  His  rela- 
tives and  friends  had  argued  with  him,  he  had  tried 
to  conquer  the  phobia  by  force  of  will,  but  all  to  no 
purpose.  Nor  could  he  give  any  reason  for  his  ab- 
normal dread. 

Put  into  the  hypnotic  state,  however,  and  ques- 
tioned again,  he  recalled  an  incident  that  at  once  re- 
vealed its  source.  Two  years  previously,  it  appeared, 
he  had  been  taking  a  horseback  ride,  when  he  unex- 
pectedly galloped  into  an  open  field. 

"  I  became  terribly  frightened,"  said  he,  "  as  the 
ground  was  rough,  and  I  thought  I  should  certainly 
fall  off  the  horse.  I  felt  faint,  my  heart  beat  rap- 
[255] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

idly,  I  broke  into  a  cold  perspiration  and  trembled 
all  over.  It  seemed  as  if  the  end  of  the  world  was 
coming.  Since  then,  whenever  I  see  a  field  or  a  park 
I  am  reminded  of  this,  and  feel  the  same  agonising 
fear." 

In  the  case  of  another  patient  suffering  from  fear 
of  closed  spaces  the  abnormal  fear  was  traced  to  an 
occasion  when,  visiting  a  friend  in  a  small,  close  room, 
the  patient  had  a  fainting  attack.  In  a  third  pa- 
tient, a  young  woman,  there  developed  a  fear  of 
crowds  because,  some  time  previously,  at  a  crowded 
school  celebration,  she  had  been  slightly  overcome  by 
heat,  and  had  "  felt  like  screaming."  Another  young 
woman  was  afflicted  with  pyrophobia,  or  fear  of  fire, 
in  such  an  extreme  form  that  she  could  not  remain  in 
a  room  where  an  open  fire  was  burning,  and  every 
night  made  the  rounds  of  her  house  to  satisfy  herself 
there  was  nothing  that  could  start  a  conflagration. 
Inquiry  showed  that  all  this  morbid  anxiety  was  an 
outgrowth  of  a  previous  experience  with  fire. 

Sometimes  memory  of  the  antecedent  causal  experi- 
[256] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

ence  is  not  entirely  blotted  out  of  the  upper  con- 
sciousness. The  sufferer  may  even  entertain  a  clear 
recollection  of  it  and  still  be  unable  to  conquer  his 
phobia;  which,  however,  under  these  circumstances  is 
not  nearly  so  severe  as  when  the  process  is  entirely 
one  of  subsconscious  mentation.  In  either  case,  of 
course,  the  problem  of  the  development  of  the  phobia 
still  requires  explanation.  Only  partial  enlighten- 
ment is  gained,  after  all,  when  we  recognise  the  causal 
action  of  some  specific  occurrence,  such  as  a  fall,  a 
fainting-fit,  or  the  sight  of  a  fire.  Thousands  of 
persons  experience  these  things  without  thereby  be- 
coming victims  of  a  phobia.  When  a  phobia  does 
result,  some  exceptional  circumstances  must  be  op- 
erative, and  it  is  manifestly  desirable  to  learn,  if  pos- 
sible, what  these  are. 

It  is  the  more  desirable  since,  as  investigation  is 
daily  revealing  more  and  more  clearly,  abnormal 
dread  is  not  the  only  malady  resulting  from  a  fear- 
occasioning  event.  Where  one  man,  as  the  result  of 
a  sudden  fright,  may  in  course  of  time  become  a 
£257] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

phobiac,  another  may  develop  symptoms,  not  of 
mental  trouble,  but  of  bodily  disease.  A  most  in- 
structive instance  is  afforded  by  the  experiences  of  a 
young  Russian  immigrant  in  this  country  who  had 
the  good  fortune  to  come  under  the  observation  of 
those  two  eminent  specialists  in  the  treatment  of 
mentally-caused  disorders,  Doctors  Morton  Prince 
and  Boris  Sidis. 

The  trouble  for  which  this  young  man  sought  re- 
lief was,  to  all  appearance,  purely  physical.  It  con- 
sisted of  periodic  convulsive  attacks  that  racked  the 
right  half  of  his  body,  and  had  led  to  a  diagnosis  of 
epilepsy.  Since  sundry  delicate  symptoms  charac- 
teristic of  epilepsy  were  absent,  however,  the  special- 
ists, after  a  careful  study  of  the  case,  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  spasms  from  which  their  patient 
suffered  might  involve  no  true  organic  disease,  and 
might  be  nothing  more  than  the  outward  manifesta- 
tion of  some  deep-seated  psychical  disturbance. 
With  this  possibility  in  mind  they  questioned  him 
[258] 


THE    MENACE    OF    FEAR 

both  in  the  normal  waking  state  and  in  hypnosis,  and 
brought  to  light  some  interesting  facts. 

The  first  attack,  he  told  them,  had  set  in  five  years 
before,  when  he  was  sixteen  years  old  and  living  in 
Russia.  After  returning  from  a  dance  one  evening, 
he  went  back  to  look  for  a  ring  lost  by  the  young 
lady  whom  he  had  escorted  home.  It  was  past  mid- 
night, and  his  way  lay  over  a  country  road  by  a 
cemetery.  Nearing  the  cemetery,  he  thought  he 
heard  somebody  or  something  running  after  him.  He 
turned  to  flee,  fell,  and  lost  consciousness.  He  still 
was  unconscious  when  found  on  the  road.  After  he 
had  been  brought  to,  it  was  seen  that  he  was  afflicted 
with  a  spasmodic,  uncontrollable  shaking  of  the  right 
side,  involving  his  head,  arm,  and  leg.  This  lasted 
almost  a  week,  when  he  seemed  as  well  as  ever.  But 
every  year  thereafter,  at  about  the  same  time,  he  had 
had  an  attack  similar  in  all  respects  to  the  first  one, 
excepting  only  that  he  did  not  become  unconscious. 

He  further  declared,  while  in  the  hypnotic  state, 
[  259  ] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

that  throughout  the  period  of  the  attacks  he  had  un- 
pleasant dreams,  all  relating  to  the  fright  and  fall  of 
five  years  before.  In  these  dreams  he  lived  over  and 
over  again  the  experience  from  which  his  trouble 
dated. 

"  I  find  myself,"  said  he,  "  on  the  lonely  road  in 
my  little  native  town.  I  am  hurrying  along  the  road 
near  the  cemetery.  It  is  very  dark.  I  imagine 
somebody  —  a  robber,  or  a  ghost  —  is  running  after 
me.  I  become  frightened,  call  for  help,  and  fall. 
Then  I  wake  up  with  a  start,  and  remember  nothing 
about  the  dream.  I  no  longer  am  afraid,  but  I  have 
these  terrible  spasms." 

It  was  even  found  possible  to  produce  the  convul- 
sive attacks  experimentally  by  simply  reminding  him, 
while  hypnotised,  of  the  incident  on  the  road.  To 
Doctors  Prince  and  Sidis  it  now  seemed  certain  that 
his  malady  was  due  to  nothing  else  than  the  per- 
sistence of  an  intensely  vivid  subconscious  memory- 
image  of  the  fright  he  had  experienced;  and  that  he 
would  no  longer  be  troubled  by  it  if  the  memory- 
[260] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

image  were  destroyed  by  psychotherapeutic  treat- 
ment. Suggestions  to  this  effect  were  accordingly 
given  him,  when  awake  as  well  as  when  hypnotised. 
The  outcome  was  all  that  could  be  desired,  for  a 
speedy  and  permanent  cure  was  brought  about. 

Paralysis,  muscular  contractures,  symptoms  mim- 
icking tuberculosis,  kidney  disease,  and  other  dread 
organic  maladies,  are  also  recognised  to-day  as  pos- 
sible after-effects,  through  the  power  of  subconscious 
mental  action,  of  happenings  that  give  rise  to  a  pro- 
found feeling  of  fear.  Sometimes  more  than  one 
symptom  is  thus  occasioned  in  the  same  patient. 
Again,  for  the  purpose  of  concrete  illustration,  I 
cite  a  typical  case  from  real  life  —  the  case  of  a  Pole, 
a  man  of  twenty-five,  treated  for  a  weird  combina- 
tion of  mental  and  physical  disturbances. 

Physically,  he  suffered  from  severe  and  frequent 
attacks  of  headache,  setting  in  gradually,  and  pre- 
ceded by  a  feeling  of  depression  and  dizziness.  Dur- 
ing the  attacks  his  body  became  cold,  his  head 
throbbed  violently,  he  shivered  incessantly.  To  keep 
[261] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

warm,  he  was  obliged  to  wrap  himself  in  many  blan- 
kets. Mentally,  he  was  tormented  by  many  phobias. 
He  was  afraid  of  closed  places,  and  still  more  afraid 
of  being  obliged  to  remain  alone,  especially  at  night. 
He  had  a  morbid  fear  of  the  dead,  and  would  on  no 
account  enter  a  room  with  a  corpse  in  it  or  attend  a 
funeral.  Nothing  could  induce  him  to  visit  a  ceme- 
tery, even  in  company  with  other  people.  Fear  of 
dogs  was  also  a  conspicuous  feature  of  his  case,  as 
was  fear  of  fire. 

Through  psychological  exploration  of  his  subcon- 
sciousness,  every  one  of  these  symptoms  was  traced 
to  actual  experiences  that  had  given  him  great  emo- 
tional shocks,  and  in  almost  every  instance  to  ex- 
periences that  had  occurred  in,  his  childhood.  The 
fear  of  dogs  had  its  origin  in  an  exciting  episode  he 
had  had  with  some  dogs  when  he  was  only  three.  The 
pyrophobia  was  connected  with  the  fact  that  at  four 
years  of  age  he  had  been  hastily  carried  from  a  burn- 
ing building,  shivering  with  fright  and  cold,  into  the 
open  air  of  a  frosty  night.  His  dread  of  cemeteries 


THE    MENACE    OF    FEAR 

and  of  the  dead  was  rooted  in  a  subconscious  recol- 
lection of  terrors  inspired  in  him,  while  a  child,  by 
hearing  "  all  kinds  of  ghost  stories  and  tales  of  wan- 
dering lost  souls,  and  of  spirits  of  dead  people  hover- 
ing about  churchyards." 

In  addition  to  this,  his  mother,  a  very  supersti- 
tious woman,  when  he  was  nine,  placed  the  cold  hand 
of  a  corpse  on  his  naked  chest  as  a  "  cure  "  for  some 
trifling  ailment.  Hence  his  special  fear  of  corpses. 
As  to  the  headaches  and  the  sensations  of  cold,  they 
were  the  result  partly  of  this  "  dead  hand  "  memory, 
and  partly  of  the  memory  of  a  still  more  severe  ex- 
perience, occurring  at  about  the  same  time,  when  he 
was  forced  to  spend  an  entire  night  in  a  barn  in  mid- 
winter, to  escape  a  party  of  drunken  soldiers  who 
had  beaten  his  father  unmercifully  and  had  killed  one 
of  his  little  brothers.  His  fear  of  closed  spaces  and 
his  fear  of  being  alone  were  associated  with  the  same 
experience. 

As  he  grew  older  much  of  all  this  faded  from  his 
conscious  recollection.  But,  by  analysing  his  dreams 
[263] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

and  questioning  him  in  hypnosis,  it  was  found  that 
subconsciously  he  had  forgotten  none  of  it.  Evi- 
dence also  was  forthcoming  indicating  that  from  time 
to  time,  owing  to  the  occurrence  of  later  experiences 
of  a  less  sinister  nature  but  disquieting  enough,  there 
had  been  exceptionally  vivid  revivals  of  the  earlier 
memories ;  and  that  it  was  in  this  way  that  they  had 
been  able  to  acquire  such  tremendous  disease-produc- 
ing power. 

Here,  I  am  confident,  we  have  the  answer  to  the 
question  raised  in  connection  with  the  development  of 
phobias  in  adult  life  from  seemingly  trivial  occur- 
rences. Heredity,  no  doubt,  plays  some  part.  But 
assuredly  a  far  greater  influence  is  exercised  by  the 
presence  of  baneful  memory-images  that  need  only 
an  appropriate  stimulus  to  excite  them  into  per- 
nicious activity.  The  mechanism  of  fear-caused  dis- 
eases, to  put  it  briefly,  is  probably  much  the  same  as 
that  operating  in  the  production  of  the  familiar  phe- 
nomenon of  dreaming. 

[264] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

When  we  dream  of  anything,  we  do  so  because  an 
incident  of  the  waking  life  has,  through  association 
of  ideas,  roused  some  dormant  emotional  "  complex," 
some  group  of  subconscious  ideas  relating  to  matters 
which  are,  or  once  were,  of  great  significance  to  us, 
and  our  dream  is  a  symbolic  expression  of  this  dor- 
mant complex.1  So  is  it  with  the  man  who  suffers 
from  a  fear-induced  malady,  whether  it  take  the  form 
of  a  mental  or  of  a  physical  disorder. 

Perhaps  of  a  neurotic  tendency  by  inheritance, 
perhaps  of  a  good  heredity  but  temporarily  weakened 
by  grief,  worry,  etc.,  something  occurs  that  gives  this 
person  a  sudden  fright,  and,  by  association  of  ideas, 
reminds  him,  if  only  subconsciously,  of  earlier  fear- 
inspiring  episodes  in  his  life.  Ordinarily  there  would 
be  no  unpleasant  after-effect,  except  possibly  a  few 
nights  of  bad  dreams.  But  in  his  condition  dream- 
ing is  not  sufficient  to  give  vent  to  the  subconscious 

i  The  psychology  of  dreams  and  their  practical  significance 
will  be  dealt  with  in  some  detail  in  my  forthcoming  book 
on  "  Sleep  and  Sleeplessness." 

[265] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

emotions.  Some  other  channel  of  discharge  must  be 
found,  and  it  is  found  in  the  production  of  disease- 
symptoms  —  whether  mental  or  physical,  or  both 
mental  and  physical  —  symbolising  the  emotional 
complex  or  complexes  stimulated  by  the  happening 
that  frightened  him. 

Indeed,  there  is  reason  for  suspecting  that  all 
functional  nervous  and  mental  troubles,  no  matter 
what  their  immediate  cause,  are  traceable  to  fear- 
memories  of  remote  occurrence,  dating  usually  from 
the  days  of  childhood.  Certainly  it  is  possible  to 
detail  from  recent  medical  practice  innumerable  cases 
in  support  of  this  view.  Not  to  be  tedious,  I  will 
give  only  one  or  two,  selecting  first  a  case  of  Doctor 
Coriat's,  in  which  the  patient,  a  middle-aged  woman, 
had  for  years  been  tormented  by  an  increasing  fear 
that  she  would  go  insane,  and  that,  if  insane,  she 
would  inevitably  injure  some  member  of  her  family. 
The  poor  woman  had  worn  herself  out  brooding  over 
this,  and  was  gradually  qualifying  for  commitment  to 
some  institution.  But  Doctor  Coriat  could  not  find, 
[  266  ] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

either  in  her  physical  condition  or  in  the  facts  of  her 
family  history,  anything  to  warrant  her  belief  that 
she  was  doomed  to  become  insane. 

Suspecting,  therefore,  that  this  belief  was  merely 
a  hysterical  outgrowth  of  some  forgotten  shock  in 
her  previous  life,  and  knowing  that  in  sleep  such 
latent  memories  have  a  tendency  to  emerge  mo- 
mentarily into  the  field  of  consciousness,  he  ques- 
tioned her  regarding  the  frequency  and  content  of 
her  dreams. 

"  I  dream  a  great  deal,"  she  told  him,  "  but  I  never 
have  a  clear  remembrance  of  what  I  have  dreamed 
about." 

Yet,  when  hypnotised  and  again  questioned  re- 
garding the  dreams,  she  was  able  to  detail  many  of 
them.  One  in  particular  interested  Doctor  Coriat. 
It  was  of  a  recurrent  character,  and,  was  identified 
by  the  patient  as  having  first  been  dreamed  at  the 
time  she  began  to  worry  over  her  condition.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a  dream  in  which  she  saw  herself  insane. 

"  Had  anything  unpleasant  happened  to  you  the 
[267] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

day  before  you  first  had  that  dream  ?  "  Doctor  Coriat 
now  inquired  of  his  hypnotised  patient. 

"  Nothing  that  I  can  remember,  except  that  I  went 
to  a  friend's  funeral." 

"  The  funeral  of  a  very  dear  friend  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly  —  just  a  friend." 

"  But  that  should  not  have  had  such  a  disturbing 
effect  on  your  mind.  Did  anything  happen  at  the 
funeral?  " 

"  I  saw  a  woman  there  whose  eyes  frightened 
me." 

"And  why  did  they  frighten  you?" 

"  Because  they  reminded  me  of  a  preacher  I  used 
to  know  when  I  was  a  little  girl.  He  was  a  revivalist, 
and  I  always  thought  he  was  crazy.  I  went  to  his 
meetings,  and  got  terribly  worked  up,  and  it  fright- 
ened me  very  much.  I  thought  I  would  go  crazy 
too,  just  like  the  preacher." 

To  Doctor  Coriat  it  seemed  unnecessary  to  ask 
any  more  questions.  As  he  saw  it,  the  haunting 
dread  of  insanity  was  nothing  but  the  continuation 
[268] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

in  consciousness  of  the  forgotten  memory  of  the 
childhood  fright,  revived  by  subconscious  association 
of  the  woman  at  the  funeral  with  the  preacher  whose 
rabid  exhortations  had  inspired  the  patient  with 
such  terror.  On  this  theory  he  utilised  the  resources 
of  medical  psychology  to  deprive  the  baneful  memory- 
image  of  its  power  to  harm,  and  soon  had  the  satis- 
faction of  being  able  to  record  a  perfect  cure. 

In  another  case,  successfully  treated  by  Doctor 
Sidis,  the  subconscious  persistence  of  childhood  fears 
actually  threatened  a  young  woman  with  perhaps 
lifelong  confinement  in  an  asylum  for  the  insane. 
She  had,  in  fact,  been  placed  in  a  New  York  hospital 
for  observation,  and  it  was  there  that  Doctor  Sidis 
treated  her.  According  to  her  relatives,  who  did 
not  doubt  that  she  had  lost  her  reason,  she  suffered 
from  strange  hallucinations,  particularly  of  con- 
stantly hearing  voices  call  to  her,  and  of  being  killed. 
She  even  imagined  at  times  that  she  was  dead,  and 
would  lie  in  a  cataleptic  condition,  rigidly  motion- 
less. At  other  times  she  complained  of  a  painful 
[269] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

stiffness  in  her  arms,  and  of  difficulty  in  walking. 

Testing  her  psychologically,  Doctor  Sidis  found 
cause  for  thinking  that  her  trouble  was  hysterical 
rather  than  a  true  insanity  involving  brain  lesions, 
and  he  promptly  questioned  her  relatives  regarding 
her  previous  history.  She  had  had,  he  learned,  some 
exceedingly  unpleasant  experiences  with  a  brother- 
in-law,  a  rough,  brutal  fellow,  but  they  did  not  seem 
adequate  to  account  for  her  various  symptoms. 
These,  he  suspected,  had  their  roots  farther  back  in 
her  life,  and,  although  she  professed  a  total  inability 
to  recall  any  severe  fright  or  worry  other  than  those 
associated  with  her  brother-in-law,  he  remained  un- 
shaken in  his  suspicion. 

"  What  do  you  dream  about?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  I  don't  exactly  know,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  sure 
I  dream  a  good  deal,  though,  for  when  I  wake  I  al- 
ways seem  to  have  been  dreaming,  and  to  have  had 
horrid  dreams.  All  I  can  say  is  that  I  dimly  remem- 
ber seeing  in  them  many  ugly  faces." 

"  Is  your  brother-in-law's  face  among  them  ?  " 
[270] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

"  Yes,  and  other  people's  faces.  But  I'm  sure  I 
don't  know  who  they  are." 

Subjected  to  a  special  process  of  "  mind  tunnel- 
ing" of  Doctor  Sidis's  own  invention,  the  patient 
recalled  a  number  of  dreams  in  vivid  detail.  Most  of 
them  showed  a  strong  resemblance  to  one  another,  in 
that  they  had  as  their  setting  a  forest,  and  as  their 
chief  actors  men  of  repulsive  aspect,  usually  dressed 
in  the  roughest  of  clothing,  and  usually  intent  on 
capturing  the  dreamer.  Only  the  night  before,  she 
declared,  she  had  dreamed  that  a  man  was  trying  to 
choke  her,  and  she  had  awakened  panic-stricken,  and 
so  drenched  with  perspiration  that  her  nurse  —  who 
corroborated  her  statement  —  had  had  to  change  her 
night-gown. 

"  Can  you  identify  the  men  of  your  dreams  —  the 
men  dressed  in  rough  clothing  who  pursue  you  so 
fiercely?  "  Doctor  Sidis  asked,  while  she  still  was  in 
the  artificial  state  into  which  he  had  put  her. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  answered,  much  agitated.  "  I 
know  them  only  too  well." 

[271] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

Now,  for  the  first  time,  she  related  to  him  two 
most  significant  episodes  of  her  girlhood.  Once,  it 
appeared,  when  she  was  hardly  nine  years  old,  she 
was  walking  along  a  country  road,  past  a  forest, 
when  a  wood-cutter  — "  a  big  man,  with  big  arms 
and  hands  projecting  from  short  sleeves  " — tried  to 
catch  her  and  carry  her  into  the  forest.  "  He  ran 
after  me  with  outstretched  arms.  I  screamed,  and 
ran  from  him  as  fast  as  I  could,  calling  for  help  all 
the  time."  And,  on  another  occasion,  when  she  was 
even  younger  —  only  six  —  on  her  way  to  school 
through  the  woods,  a  man  met  her,  gave  her  candy, 
talked  to  her  nicely,  and  all  at  once  seized  her  so 
roughly  that  she  began  to  scream  with  fright  and 
pain.  At  that  moment  somebody  came  along,  and 
the  man  released  her  and  fled. 

These  were  the  men  whom  she  chiefly  saw  in  her 
dreams ;  these  were  the  shocks  which,  aggravated  by 
the  more  recent  experiences  of  a  not  dissimilar  sort 
with  her  brother-in-law,  were  the  true  determinants 
of  her  hysteria  —  as  was  proved  by  the  fact  that 
[272] 


THE    MENACE    OF    FEAR 

upon  psychological  disintegration  of  her  subcon^- 
scious  memories  of  them,  a  speedy  and  lasting  return 
to  health  resulted. 

In  like  manner  the  seemingly  epileptic  attacks  of 
a  nineteen-year-old  New  York  "  street  arab  "  were 
found  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  external  mani- 
festation of  subconscious  memory-images,  dating 
back  to  early  childhood,  of  nights  passed  in  a  dark, 
damp,  terror-inspiring  cellar.  The  sight  of  the  dis- 
coloured corpse  of  a  man  who  had  died  from  cholera 
left  in  the  mind  of  a  sensitive  girl  of  ten  such  a  pain- 
ful impression  that  years  afterward,  quite  unaccount- 
ably as  it  seemed,  she  developed  an  abnormal  fear  of 
contracting  some  deadly  disease;  and  had  she  not 
fortunately  been  taken  to  a  skilled  medical  psycholo- 
gist (Doctor  Pierre  Janet)  she  would  almost  cer- 
tainly have  ended  her  days  in  an  asylum.  In  the 
case  of  an  over-worked  Boston  young  man,  thought 
to  be  suffering  from  "  dementia  praecox,"  it  was 
found  that  his  morbid  notion  that  he  had  committed 
an  "  unpardonable  sin  "  was  only  a  hysterical  product 
[273] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

of  subconsciously  remembered  fears  of  childhoood. 
The  victim  himself  eventually  recognised  this,  de- 
claring, in  an  autobiographical  statement  made  at 
his  physician's  request: 

"  My  abnormal  fear  certainly  originated  from  doc- 
trines of  hell  which  I  heard  in  early  childhood,  par- 
ticularly from  a  rather  ignorant  elderly  woman  who 
taught  Sunday-school.  My  early  religious  thought 
was  chiefly  concerned  with  the  direful  eternity  of 
torture  that  might  be  awaiting  me  if  I  was  not  good 
enough  to  be  saved." 

Whether  or  no  all  cases  of  functional  nervous  and 
mental  disease  are  thus  rooted  in  emotional  stresses 
of  youth,  certainly  this  is  often  enough  the  fact  to 
constitute  a  serious  warning  to  all  who  have  anything 
to  do  with  the  upbringing  of  the  young.  If  fears  of 
childhood  can  persist  throughout  life  and  can  affect 
adult  development  so  profoundly  as  to  be  causal 
agents  in  the  production  of  disease,  it  is  obvious  that 
parents  and  educators  should  adopt  every  means  in 
their  power  to  prevent  the  growth  of  unreasonable 
[274] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

fears  in  the  little  ones  in  their  care.  Yet,  as  mat- 
ters are  to-day,  and  not  least  in  the  home,  most  chil- 
dren are  subject  to  influences  that  tend  to  foster, 
not  inhibit,  such  fears. 

In  their  presence,  as  was  noted  on  a  previous  page, 
parents  often  discuss  accidents,  crimes,  sensational 
doings  of  all  sorts ;  they  betray  a  fretfulness,  an 
anxiety,  an  unrest,  that  cannot  but  react  on  the 
sensitive  mind  of  the  child,  filling  it  with  fears  of  it 
knows  not  what;  they  even  utilise  the  fear  impulse 
as  a  means  of  coercing  the  child  into  good  behaviour ; 
and,  what  is  perhaps  worst  of  all,  many  parents  in- 
trust their  children  to  ignorant  and  superstitious 
nurses,  who  take  a  strange  pleasure  in  "  scaring  them 
half  to  death  "  with  tales  of  demons,  ghosts  and  gob- 
lins. 

Fortunately  the  majority  of  people,  as  a  result  of 
later  training  and  experience,  or  by  the  exercise  of 
will-power,  are  able  to  suppress  the  fears  of  child- 
hood ;  but  often  only  at  the  cost  of  great  mental  tor- 
ture. Not  so  long  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  a 
£  275  ] 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  PARENTHOOD 

Detroit  business  man,  Mr.  John  J.  Mitchell,  that  may 
well  be  quoted  in  this  connection.  He  wrote: 

"  As  a  child,  as  far  back  as  memory  goes,  I  was 
'  afraid  of  the  dark,'  intensely  afraid.  ...  At  about 
eleven  years  of  age  I  got  a  place  in  a  country  store, 
and  perhaps  two  years  later  changed  to  the  largest 
store  in  town.  This  concern  did  a  large,  old-fash- 
ioned country  business,  buying  produce  and  selling 
all  manner  of  merchandise  in  exchange  or  on  credit. 
This  involved  the  use  of  two  old-time  buildings 
(frame)  with  three  stories  each  and  a  cellar  under 
all.  Owing  to  the  character  of  the  business  and  lo- 
cation, there  were  doors  opening  to  the  street  and 
area  on  each  side  and  rear  from  every  floor,  including 
the  cellar,  seven  or  eight  in  all,  and  widely  apart, 
besides  windows.  It  was  my  duty  at  dusk  to  see  that 
all  these  doors  were  properly  closed  and  barred  for 
the  night.  .  .  .  With  my  childish  fear  of  the  dark 
this  daily  task  was  an  ordeal  —  at  times  a  terrible 
ordeal. 

"  I  never  made  complaint  or  confided  my  fears  to 
[276] 


THE    MENACE    OP   FEAR 

a  soul.  But  for  some  reason,  the  source  of  which 
was,  and  is,  as  obscure  as  my  intangible  fears,  I  re- 
solved to  cure  myself  of  this  terror.  .  .  .  My  plan, 
adopted  and  unflinchingly  carried  out,  was  to  com- 
pel myself  —  a  slender,  timid  little  kid  —  to  go  that 
round  daily,  in  the  shadowy  dusk,  without  a  light 
(which  I  was  privileged  to  have,  a  lantern).  I  can 
only  remember  now  the  pain  of  dread  and  unreason- 
ing apprehension,  and  the  resolution  to  *  have  it  over 
and  done  with.' 

"  I  cannot  now  fix  the  time  when  it  was  accom- 
plished, but  in  the  end  I  was  completely  cured,  so 
that,  at  least  since  my  ma  j  ority,  I  have  not  only  been 
relieved  of  this  dread,  but  I  often  welcome  the  folds 
of  darkness  (of  night),  as  if  wrapped  about  with  a 
comforting  garment.  It  will  be  a  certain  qualifica- 
tion to  state  that,  at  very  long  intervals,  and  always 
after  some  physical  or  mental  strain,  I  feel  mo- 
mentarily a  fear  of  return  of  old  impressions  in  *  un- 
canny '  surroundings." 

And,  beyond  any  question,  no  matter  how  effectu- 
[277] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

ally  one  may  suppress  such  youthful  fears,  so  far  as 
relates  to  their  survival  in  the  upper  consciousness, 
there  will  always  be  a  subconscious  remnant,  a  buried 
complex,  ready  to  emerge  and  work  mischief  in  one 
way  or  another.  There  is  a  world  of  truth  in  Pro- 
fessor Angelo  Mosso's  emphatic  declaration: 

"  Every  ugly  thing  told  to  the  child,  every  shock, 
every  fright  given  him,  will  remain  like  minute  splin- 
ters in  the  flesh,  to  torture  him  all  his  life  long." 

If  not  in  such  an  extreme  form  as  a  phobia,  or 
other  functional  disease,  the  early  fears  will  never- 
theless make  their  presence  felt  in  later  life.  In 
some  men  they  may  engender  lack  of  self-confidence, 
and  even  a  despicable  cowardice;  in  others  they  may 
breed  superstitious  terrors  and  usages.  Always,  in 
some  way,  one  may  depend  on  it,  they  will  affect  the 
character,  the  intellect,  the  whole  moral  and  mental 
make-up. 

Nor  will  their  influence  be  confined  to  the  individ- 
ual. Fear,  as  every  psychologist  knows,  is  one  of 
the  most  contagious  of  the  emotions.  Socially,  as 
[  278  ] 


THE    MENACE    OF   FEAR 

well  as  individually,  it  has  a  useful  function  to  per- 
form. The  presence  in  all  civilised  communities  of 
police  and  fire  departments,  boards  of  health,  and 
the  like,  testifies  impressively  to  the  influence  of  so- 
cial fear  working  normally  as  a  conserving  agent. 
But  there  may  be,  and  frequently  is,  social  as  well  as 
individual  abnormality  of  fear;  as  in  panics,  massa- 
cres, lynchings.  In  order  to  deal  with  this  effectu- 
ally, in  order  to  keep  social  fear  within  the  bounds 
of  reason,  it  will  always  be  necessary  to  recognise 
that,  after  all,  society  is  made  up  of  a  mass  of  indi- 
viduals, and  can  only  think  and  feel  and  act  as  indi- 
viduals think  and  feel  and  act.  Train  the  individual 
properly,  and  society  will  be  sane  and  healthy  and 
efficient  enough. 


[279] 


IX 


WE  have  now  reviewed  in  some  detail  the 
principal  results  of  recent  psychologi- 
cal research  and  observation,  so  far 
as  these  bear  directly  on  man's  mental  and  moral 
growth.     Varied  as  is  the  mass  of  information  thus 
brought  together,  we  have  found  it  pointing  uni- 
formly to  one  conclusion  —  the  transcendent  signifi- 
cance of  the  environmental  influences  of  early  life. 

Again  and  again  we  have  found  confirmation  of  the 
view  that  what  a  man  is  and  does  depends,  as  a  rule, 
not  so  much  on  the  gifts  or  defects  of  his  heredity  as 
on  the  excellences  or  shortcomings  of  his  childhood's 
training  and  surroundings.  If  these  are  favourable, 
even  the  dead  hand  of  a  bad  inheritance  may  be  ar- 
rested, and  he  may  develop  surprising  strength 
of  intellect  and  character;  if  unfavourable,  mental 
[283] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

and  moral  inferiority  may  be  looked  for,  no  matter 
how  good  the  heredity. 

This,  of  course,  emphasises  the  responsibilities  of 
parenthood,  chief  among  which,  as  would  appear 
from  the  facts  surveyed,  are  the  beginning  of  formal 
I  education  in  the  home,  the  providing  of  a  carefully 
1  planned  material  environment,  and  the  setting  of  a 
really  good  example.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  to 
return  for  a  moment  to  the  superlatively  instructive 
case  of  Karl  Witte,  that  by  all  odds  the  greatest 
force  in  the  moral  development  of  that  splendid 
scholar  and  gentleman,  was  the  unceasing  inspiration 
he  unconsciously  drew  from  the  lives  of  his  father 
and  mother  —  from  their  integrity,  unselfishness, 
patience,  sincerity,  and  courage.  Parents  cannot  too 
soon  learn  that,  to  quote  a  cardinal  clause  in  the  elder 
Witte's  educational  creed: 

"  Our  children  are  what  we  are.     They  are  good 

when  we  are  good,  and  bad  when  we  are  bad.     I  would 

extend  this  assertion.     With  full  conviction  I  would 

say,  they  become  clever,  magnanimous,  modest,  witty, 

[284] 


A    FEW    CLOSING    WORDS 

agreeable,  amiable,  if  these  are  our  qualities.  They 
become  the  opposite  if  we  precede  them  with  the  op- 
posite." 

Or,  as  Doctor  Dubois  has  so  admirably  put  it  in 
one  of  his  University  of  Berne  addresses  on  moral 
education : 

"  You,  madam,  who  complain  of  the  irritability  of 
your  little  girl,  could  you  not  suppress  your  own, 
which  I  have  seen  break  out,  in  a  few  words  exchanged 
with  your  dear  husband,  immediately  afterward? 
You,  sir,  who  bitterly  reproach  your  son  for  his  im- 
pulsiveness and  instability  of  temper,  have  you  not 
these  faults  yourself?  .  .  .  Remember  the  proverb, 
4  The  fruit  does  not  fall  far  from  the  tree.'  "  ("  Rea- 
son and  Sentiment,"  pp.  53-54.) 

Personally,  also,  I  am  of  Witte's  belief  that  intel- 
lectual training  along  the  lines  followed  by  him  in 
his  son's  upbringing  is  of  itself  an  important  adjunct 
to  moral  growth.  Certainly,  by  developing  the  pow- 
ers of  observation,  analysis,  and  inference,  it  makes 
it  easier  for  the  child  to  appreciate  the  force  of  any 
[285] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND    PARENTHOOD 

arguments  advanced  by  the  parent  in  the  way  of 
direct  moral  instruction.  Besides  this,  by  keeping 
the  child's  mind  occupied  with  wholesome  and  profit- 
able matters,  it  saves  him  from  the  idleness  and  waste 
of  energy  which,  in  childhood  as  much  as  in  adult 
life,  favour  the  formation  of  bad  habits.  And  assur- 
edly the  methods  by  which  his  mental  education  may 
best  be  carried  on  in,  the  first  years  of  existence  are 
such  that  they  may  be  readily  applied  by  all  par- 
ents. 

It  is  by  no  means  a  difficult  thing  to  begin,  as 
Witte  did,  by  naming  to  the  little  one  various  small 
objects  in  and  about  the  home.  These  should  be 
named  over  and  over  to  him,  slowly,  clearly,  impres- 
sively ;  and  the  attempt  should  next  be  made  to  con- 
vey to  him  a  notion  of  their  properties,  by  teaching 
him,  for  example,  to  detect  differences  in  colour  and 
in  such  qualities  as  hot  and  cold,  round  and  square, 
hard  and  soft,  rough  and  smooth.  This  can  be  done 
in  any  one  of  several  ways,  but  the  best  method,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  that  developed  within  recent  years 
[286] 


A    FEW    CLOSING    WORDS 

by  the  noted  Italian  educator  of  little  children,  Maria 
Montessori. 

Her  plan  with  every  child  whose  education  is  in- 
trusted to  her  is  to  start  by  teaching  it  to  distinguish 
between  various  touch  sensations;  and  she  does  this 
so  successfully  that  her  pupils,  aged  from  three  to 
seven,  are  able,  blindfolded,  to  state  the  differences  in 
extremely  fine  gradations  of  cloths,  papers,  coins, 
and  seeds.  Any  parent  can  do  the  same  thing,  be- 
ginning by  drilling  the  child  in  distinguishing  between 
massive  sensations,  and  gradually  developing  deli- 
cacy of  touch. 

Two  cards,  one  rough,  one  smooth,  afford  an 
excellent  starting-point.  The  child  touches  the 
smooth  card.  "  Smooth,"  says  the  parent,  and 
"  Smooth "  responds  the  child.  The  little  fingers 
are  then  placed  on  the  card  with  the  rough  surface. 
"  Rough,"  the  child  is  told,  and  "  Rough "  he  re- 
peats. Only  a  few  lessons  of  this  sort  will  be  found 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  select  at  request  the 
smooth  or  the  rough  card  and  hand  it  to  .the  parent. 
[287] 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    PARENTHOOD 

Ideas  of  shape,  size,  etc.,  may  be  similarly  imparted, 
with  the  triple  advantage  that  the  child  will  daily, 
and  without  mental  stress,  acquire  a  more  and  more 
retentive  muscular  memory,  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  facts  of  the  world  in  which  he 
lives,  and  greater  observational  and  reasoning  ability. 

Meanwhile,  of  course,  the  fertilisation  of  the 
child's  mind  should  also  be  continued  by  other  edu- 
cative measures  —  as  the  maintenance  of  an  inspiring 
environment,  ready  and  intelligent  response  to  the 
child's  innumerable  questions,  and  skilful  guidance 
of  his  thoughts  to  subjects  which  it  is  especially 
desirable  for  him  to  study.  The  system  of  walks 
and  talks,  utilised  alike  by  James  Thomson,  James 
Mill,  and  Pastor  Witte,  is  particularly  to  be  rec- 
ommended in  this  connection,  as  also  Witte's  practice 
of  propounding  to  his  son  interesting  problems,  and 
then  taking  him  to  places  —  factories,  mills,  etc. — 
where  he  could  observe  for  himself  different  stages  in 
their  solution. 

Something  of  the  same  sort  is  possible  to  every 
[288] 


A   FEW    CLOSING    WORDS 

parent,  who  can  include  in  such  voyages  of  discovery, 
if  he  be  a  city  dweller,  visits  to  botanical  and  zoolog- 
ical gardens,  art  and  industrial  museums,  and  similar 
institutions  where  his  child  can  obtain  entertainment, 
some  insight  into  the  workings  of  natural  laws,  and 
elementary  instruction  in  subjects  which  will  in- 
evitably form  part  of  his  school  curriculum  at  a  later 
day. 

But,  it  may  be  objected,  does  not  all  this  mean 
that  in  order  to  make  sure  of  results  the  father  and 
mother  will  have  to  give  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  to  the  child's  education?  Not  at  all.  One 
hour  or  so  a  day  will  be  quite  enough  in  the  way  of 
direct,  personal  tuition.  And  even  if  the  task  of  in- 
struction were  really  burdensome,  surely,  in  view  of 
the  findings  of  modern  science,  parents  will  do 
well  to  keep  in  mind,  and  recognize  the  profound 
truth  of,  Rousseau's  stern  pronouncement: 

"  He  who  cannot  fulfil  the  duties  of  a  father  has 
no  right  to  be  a  father.  Not  poverty,  nor  severe 
labour,  nor  human  respect  can  release  him  from  the 
[  289  ] 


PSYCHOLOGY   AND   PARENTHOOD 

duty  of  supporting  his  children  and  of  educating 
them  himself.  Readers,  you  may  believe  my  words. 
I  prophesy  to  any  one  who  has  natural  feeling  and 
neglects  these  sacred  duties  —  that  he  will  long  shed 
bitter  tears  over  this  fault,  and  that  for  these  tears 
he  will  find  no  consolation." 


[290] 


INDEX 


Adenoids,     and     delinquency, 

27;  and  laziness,  173-174. 
Ampere,  A.,  84. 

Baby  talk,  dangers  of,  49-51, 

136. 

Bain,  A.,  199. 
Balzac,  H.  de,  99,  166-167. 
Berle,  A.  A.,  49-50,  136. 
Bidder,  G.,  84. 
Binet,  A.,  62. 
Boccacio,  99. 
Brady,  J.  G.,  16-18. 
Bruns,  Doctor,  241-242. 
Burke,  A.  H.,  15-16. 
Buxton,  J.,  84,  85. 

Chabaneix,  P.,  89. 

Childhood,      impressionability 

of,     30-35,     41-45,     60-63; 

mental  activity  in,  163-164; 

hysteria  in,  221-245;  results 

of  fear  in,  258-274. 
Children's  Aid  Society,  13-18. 
Cicero,  106. 
Colburn,  Z.,  82-84. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.,  78. 
Colours,  psychology  of,  57-59. 
Condillac,  79. 
Coriat,    I.    H.,    255-256,    266- 

268. 
Coulter,  E.  K.,  11. 


Dante,  88,  99. 

Darwin,  C.,  91,  165,  168,  180- 
183,  186,  201,  203,  250. 

Dase,  Z.,  84. 

Davy,  H.,  166. 

Delinquency,  chief  factors  in, 
5-19;  physical  defects  and, 
19-27,  162. 

Dental  defects,  and  delin- 
quency, 22-27;  and  laziness, 
174-176. 

Diderot,  D.,  89. 

Dreams,  and  genius,  75-81; 
and  disease,  260,  265,  267- 
.268,  270-272. 

Dubois,  P.,  28,  285. 

Dugdale,  R.  L.,  7,  10. 

Education,  suggestion  in,  39- 
68;  importance  of  early, 
67-68,  114-117;  instances  of 
early,  119-157;  helps  in 
early,  286-289. 

Eliot,  C.  W.,  64-65. 

Ellis,  H.,  57,  106. 

Environment,  and  crime,  5- 
19;  and  ill-health,  52-55; 
and  mental  development,  60, 
109,  136-137;  and  hysteria, 
232-234;  and  general  wel- 
fare, 283-284. 


[291] 


INDEX 


Eugenics,  5-6. 

Eye  trouble,  and  delinquency, 
21-23;  and  laziness,  177-178. 

Fear,  function  of,  250;  abnor- 
mal, 251-256;  as  cause  of 
nervous  diseases,  257-274. 

Fenelon,  106. 

Fleury,  M.  de,  179,  183-185. 

Franklin,  B.,  79. 

Galileo,  91,  106. 

Gauss,  K.,  84. 

Genius,  contrasting  theories 
of,  71-75;  and  dreams,  75- 
81;  the  subconscious  in,  86- 
94;  and  hard  work,  95-101; 
interest  and,  102;  precocity 
of,  105-107;  longevity  of, 
107-108. 

Goethe,  87-88. 

Gourmont,  R.  de,  89. 

Habits,  formation  of,  42-43. 

Hall,  G.  S.,  196,  213. 

Hallam,  H.,  106. 

Hecht,  D'O.,  227-229. 

Heine,  H.,  165. 

Henry,  P.,  166. 

Heredity,  and  delinquency,  5- 
19 ;  and  genius,  71 ;  and  hys- 
teria, 264. 

Heyne,  C.  G.,  142. 

Hobbes,  T.,  105-106,  198-199. 

Holmes,  A.,  24. 

Hysteria,  in  childhood,  221- 
247;  characteristics  of,  231- 
234;  treatment,  237-243,  261, 
269 ;  prevention,  243-246, 


274-278;  as  result  of  fear, 
251-274. 

Inaudi,  J.,  84. 

Indy,  V.d',  89. 

Interest,  and  intellectual  de- 
velopment, 102-105;  and 
longevity,  108;  as  antidote 
to  laziness,  183-189. 

Janet,  P.,  235,  273. 
Johnson,  S.,  166. 
Juke  family,  6-11. 

Keller,  H.,  32-34. 
Kelvin,    Lord,    education    of, 
119-126. 


Lamartine,  A.,  88. 

Lange,  C.  G.,  197. 

Languages,  teaching  foreign, 
138-140. 

Laughter,  abnormal,  196-197; 
Hobbes's  theory,  198-199; 
Bain's  theory,  199;  Spen- 
cer's theory,  201;  Melin- 
aud's  theory,  202;  Bergson's 
theory,  203-208;  problem 
re-stated,  209-210;  in  child- 
hood, 210-215;  function  of, 
212-216;  importance  to  pa- 
rents, 217-218. 

Laziness,  contrasting  theories 
of,  162-168;  a  pathological 
condition,  168-169;  physical 
defects  and,  172-178;  treat- 


INDEX 

ment,    179-186;    prevention,      Schoff,  H.  K.,  12. 


187-189. 
Left-handedness,  43-45. 
Lightning  calculators,  82-86. 
Lombroso,  C.,  8,  71. 
Lowell,  J.  R.,  166. 
Lyell,  C.,  165,  168. 

Mangiamele,  V.,  84. 

Melinaud,  C.,  201-202. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  education  of,  126- 

132. 

Minto,  W.,  131-132. 
Mitchell,  J.  J.,  276-277. 
Mondeux,  H.,  84. 
Montessori,  M.,  287. 
Moral         training,         Witte's 

method  of,  145-152. 
Mosso,  A.,  278. 
Mozart,  89,  100-101. 
Myers,  F.  W.  H.,  72,  74. . 


Napeleon,  90,  100,  105. 
Newton,  I.,  90-91,  101. 


Sidis,  B.,  115,  208»,  260-261, 
269-272. 

Shinn,  M.,  210,  214. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  79-81,  96- 
98. 

Subconscious,  nature  of  the, 
73;  memory,  31-35;  percep- 
tion, 40-41;  in  sleep,  75-81; 
in  lightning  calculation,  84- 
85 ;  in  genius,  86-94 ;  in  hys- 
teria, 233. 

Suggestion,  characteristics  of, 
39,  41;  in  child  training, 
45-51;  experiments  in,  40- 
41,  61-63;  in  treatment  of 
laziness,  185;  as  cause  of 
hysteria,  231-234;  in  treat- 
ment of  hysteria,  237-242, 
261. 

Sully,  J.,  214. 

Swift,  E.  J.,  165,  174. 


Tartini,  G.,   78-79. 

Thorndike,   E.   L.,   102-104. 
Parsons,  F.  A.,  53-54.  ,,  „ 

Perez,  B.,  43.  Upson,   H.  S.,  26. 

Phobias,  251-256,  261-263,  278.       Voltaire   89 
Poltergeist,   223-227,   233-234. 

Preyer,  W.,  214,  250.  Waldstein,  L.,  32,  34,  43-44. 

Prince,  M.,  258-261.  Wallace,  A.   R.,  91-94. 

Public    school    system,    criti-      Wallin,  J.  E.  W.,  175. 
cisms  of,  64-66.  Westlake,  E.,  224-226. 

Wickstead,  P.   H.,   154-155. 

Ribot,  T.,  172.  Wiener,   L.,   837   and   n. 

Rousseau,  J.  J.,  289-290.  Witmer,  L.,  19-22,  65. 

Witte,  K.,  education  of,  133- 

Safford,  T.,  84.  153;   career  of,  154-157. 

Schiller,  88,  101.  Wordsworth,  W.,  165. 

[293] 


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